


Weapon X Presents a For Science production: Dating, Mutants, and a Wedding

by Monroe_Happens



Series: Difficult Heroes [1]
Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics), X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bi-Gender Character(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Identity Issues, M/M, Mad Science, Physical Abuse, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Science Experiments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8842927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monroe_Happens/pseuds/Monroe_Happens
Summary: Weapon X is an inhuman place that houses human monsters. Their goddess is the phoenix. In order to be better, you must be broken and destroyed.That's all well and good. Wade got to be their favorite project and best success, but he just wants his identity and sanity back.
Follow Wade on  his journey of trying to find himself and his place in a world that he no longer has a place in. There will be joy, lots of pain, some laughter, heartache, and maybe just maybe, his happy ending.





	1. A Prelude Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experiment and depending on people take it, an extended prologue to a greater story and series. If people receive this well, I'll move forward. If not, I won't. It's totally up to you, true believers. If you like this and want more, let me know. If it's not working, let me know in an intelligent and constructive way and I'll kill the story.
> 
> One of the writers of Deadpool says that Wade can "grow" certain parts of human anatomy depending on his sexuality that week. I found the idea interesting. I'm going a more serious route with it though. I have family members and friends who are transgender and this is me trying to be more understanding. Major respect for those who are going through that or are confused. You're not alone!

* * *

_“Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters.” The Shining, Stephen King_

_“I believe, what doesn’t kill you, simply makes you stranger.” The Joker, Dark Knight_

_“For science!” Aperture Science_

 

Wade is certain that at one point in his life he had been human, that he had been natural. He does not remember those days or that time.  Not anymore.

His mind has been broken so many times, he cannot pick out memories from dreams, they swim together and mix.

The minds behind Weapon X did not believe in subtext. They were open and honest to their subjects about their work and what was to be done. Their mantra has always been, “destroy to rebuild.”

They chose to use a phoenix as their symbol. Creation has always been tied to destruction. If Wade was to become a perfect super soldier he must be remade. He must be broken in order to be better.

Killebrew honestly believed he was doing the right thing. That his work was helping. Humans deserved to be self actualized, and that sometimes an outside force was needed. He was helping Wade reach his pinnacle of potential.

He held a particular fondness and interest in Wade. Killebrew had been reassuring, kind. He appeared to have cared.

Wade’s assimilation to the advanced healing factor went well. Too well. He he can no longer age. He is forever 32. He’s tried to age. He pleaded, begged, bargained with Mistress Death to give him some years. She could not. Would not.

“I cannot interfere with mortals in this way.” She said.

“But it’s okay that we fuck, right? That you can do?”

She chose not to comment.

Killebrew and his team of scientists enjoyed the things that they could further for science, using Wade as their canvas. His DNA has been transmuted, crossbred, undone, redone, enhanced, destroyed, redesigned, so many times, it was not recognizable _as human or animal._

Wade is a new creature. He has enhanced strength with room to grow, agility, and endless stamina. He’s designed to be the perfect unstoppable weapon.

Killebrew's team though, had a sick sense of humor. They decided to have some fun and add some “flavor” to their super solider cocktail.

After some terribly cheesy horror movies, and some intense body horror themed ones, they set their sights on Wade.

They lost two team members for their efforts--Wade has some sharp, powerful teeth, their experiment for that night had been a success. His body accepted both clownfish and seahorse DNA respectively.

“Why doesn’t he have gills?”

Wade smiles through bloody teeth as he chews the finger of a scientist and swallows. The scientist screams and then passes out cold from fear and blood loss

“He still looks like a person.” Another commented.

“We weren’t trying to turn him into a fish!"

“Yes, we were!”

Killebrew found out about the unauthorized experiment and fired those involved. Wade was more than a joke, he was here for a reason. He had no use for those who did not take this work seriously.

“They are naive and young. It is a pity they have no respect for science.” He wipes the blood and sweat from Wade’s face.

“Boo. Hoo.” Wade says through gritted teeth. His breathing is haggard. His wrists are bruised from his binding. The bruises slowly fade as his healing factor kicks in. They appear, and fade. It continues until he’s released.

Wade is Killebrew's favorite.

He was not expecting the escape. Logan was not meant to regain himself. Logan was not supposed to have been part of a team. Let alone have friends. A mutant family of outcasts.

There were no file notes about his connection to the X-Men. Yet, the group known later as X Force, a black ops group within the mutant team, attacked the facility.

Logan destroyed the facility. He breathed fire, and the world came crashing down around him. His team of mutant do gooders took him home.

Killebrew's castle has been destroyed.

Wade found weapons. He lost much of his sanity by this point. Wade had found weapons, and killed whomever, whatever was in front of him. He sang Wham’s entire catalog as he did it.

His laughter still rings in Killebrew's ears.

Hollow.

Sinister.

Loud.

Piercing.

Empty.

It lacked mirth. Killebrew still shivers, when he thinks about it.

Killebrew still has great interest in Wade, and what he’s doing. He has kept up to date on the things he’s done, the people he aligns himself with.

Wade is the closest thing he has to a son.

It’s honest concern. Genuine care.

He’s been watching them for a while now, from the shadows. At first glance, it looks as though they were enemies, but the body language is all wrong.

He didn't need to see their embrace, to know. He figured it out. They were hiding their relationship. Have been for months now.

Deadpool is an enemy to X-Force. He’s done so many awful things against them. He’s time traveled to screw with war history, tried to literally write Nathan Summers from existing.

He’s been hired more than once to kill Cable. Hell, he was even stalking a protege of his at one point.

“How else am I supposed to get your attention or **_dates_** , if I don’t take jobs that involve killing you?” Wade--no--Deadpool, the name he chose, says to Nathan when confronted about his behavior and antics.

“And stalking Terry?”

Deadpool smiled and winked,

“Made you jealous, didn’t it?”

Killebrew frowns. Deadpool is pressed up against a wall and squeals with delight.

He doesn’t want to see what happens next and falls back further into the shadows.

Killebrew and Wade are connected. What Wade remembers, he can pick up on. He’s not sure how they became connected in this manner. That is one of the things he wants to figure out.

He shakes his head and curses humans and hormones. He can still hear them.

Something is wrong. Killebrew goes back to look.

 

\--

 

Deadpool is in pure bliss. His head bangs against the back of the wall? They were in an alley weren’t they? Who can remember, with teleporters and bodyslides.

His moan and rant is caught in the back of his throat and he cannot breathe.

Everything feels like an ocean of fire

Rough.

Hot.

He can taste the ash.

It stops though.

He looks down and moves his legs, which are wrapped around Nate tightly.

“What’s wrong? Is it blood? I’ll heal in ten minutes.” He closes his eyes and leans back again. He nudges Nate to continue with his thighs and knee.

“Um. Wade.” Nathan has a strange look on his face. Deadpool opens his eyes and watches him.

“Hm?”

“You, uh.” He’s not sure how to say the next sentence or how he feels about his discovery.

“Yeah?”

“You appear to have spontaneously, uh, developed new genitalia .” Nathan coughs nervously.

Deadpool tenses. He removes himself from Nathan.

Deadpool is stiff. He says nothing. Nathan does not know what to say either, so he watches his partner.

“Ihavetogo.”

Deadpool activates his teleport device on his belt.

 

\--

When Nathan finds Wade, he is curled up on the floor lying in a pool of his own blood. He had shot himself several times. Nathan sits down next to him and puts his arm around him.

“Go away.” He says weakly. He sounds like a scared child.

“No.”

“I mean it.” His voice is cracked. He has no strength to push Nate away.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t want me.” He’s trying to sound tough and serious. He’s weeping.

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Domino is single again.”

“Bully for her. Maybe she’ll find someone.”

“Priscilla.”

Nathan is not going to move. Wade sighs and has to accept that. He sits up.

“Weapon X.” He says.

Nathan waits for him to continue.

“I was normal once. I used to be a boy you know.”

He forces a laugh, he ends up choking a little then coughs.

“I was human once. I think. It was so long ago.”

“I don’t understand the benefit of changing your sexual organs or genitalia at will. I was under the impression Weapon X was looking to create super soldiers. This seems so random.”

“A joke.”

“What?”

“It was a joke! That’s what they did it. They started a joke and it turns out that joke was **_me_**. It caused no one to cry, because fuck that Wade guy!”

Nathan says nothing.

“I’m a freak. You don’t want this.” Wade points to his door. Nathan does not move

“I told you I’m not leaving.”

“Why?”

Wade is starting to shake.

“Why do you want to stay?”

“Because I want to.”

Nathan moves closer and wraps both arms around him. Wade tenses and then relaxes into his embrace.

They sit in silence for a long time before either speaks again.

“They took away part of my identity.” Wade says. He looks up at Nathan.

“I don’t know what I am anymore.”

“Wade Wilson.” Nate says simply.

“What?”

“You’re Wade Wilson. They can’t take that away from you."

Wade thinks about this.

“What if I want to be **_Wanda Wilson_** _.”_ He feigns a playfulness, but he's serious. He offers his best Deadpool smile. _  
_

“Then that’s who you are. You’re an unique individual. My favorite literal, tangible, contradiction. Living chaos.”

“Your **_favorite_**? Are we **_married_ ** now?” He meant that to be a joke, not to sound serious, like he wanted that. Because he didn’t and Nathan shouldn’t.

“If that’s what you want.” Nathan says this rather casually. Wade does not like it.

“What?”

“If you want to get married, that’s fine.”

Wade feels several emotions at once. He wants to explode and implode at the same time and in lag.

“That’s how you propose to me?” He’s disgusted at how Nathan doesn’t hold anything behind marriage, no weight.

“Oh. Will you marry me?"

“No. That’s not how we’re doing this. You don’t care about marriage or what it means do you? And why would I care right?”

Wade moves away from Nathan.

“Wade.”

“It’s just a thing to do when you’re from right? Let’s just get married, it’ll be cute and then we can go to the Jones’s and marry them too. That’s all well and good for **_you_** , but maybe it means something more for other people. Maybe I do care. Maybe I do want to spend the rest of someone’s life with them, have 2.5 kids, live in a New York Penthouse, and fight with a slutty neighbor over my husband. But Wade Wilson’s of the world don’t get to have those things, but fucking Priscilla can marry ten people before Tuesday, because fuck you.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“Well, you did.”

“I do care.”

“Prove it.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Woo me. I’ve been doing all the work. I set up the dates, I organize the entertainment--”

“You accept hits against me and we fight until we have sex.”

“Exactly. I do all the work. Now it’s your turn.”

Nathan says nothing for a long time.  
“All right. You want to be “woo’d” huh? Give me a week. I’ll come up with something.”


	2. Comes Crashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for the love and support of this! Honestly was worried and expected to be run out. LaLa Land is good for the soul, after it breaks you. God, that movie reminded me I wanted to write again, so hello, again. I'll probably edit the hell out of this chapter later, but I just needed it out there.

* * *

 

No two lovers are the same. Wade has mentally catalogued this. There are some things he would never do/want with certain ones. There are some things he _only_ wants with certain ones.

Like, for instance, he would never cuddle with Vickie. No. That is not what they do, no sir.

He he would however with, Nathan, Nessa, and Outlaw.

Sometimes he does not even need to do anything at all to have a pleasurable time. Sometimes he just watches TV with Nathan, who holds a casual interest with the programs, but it’s clear he’s enjoying their time together.

Kissing is another area that holds specifics and limitations. When he and Outlaw do it, they end up just laughing before going back to sex. Vickie is off limits with his lips in that manner, they do not kiss. Nathan though, that’s his favorite. There are several types of kisses that he has discovered with Nathan. He even has them ranked.

Like now for instance. Nathan was all scruffy like a nerf herder. They’ve been apart for about six weeks now, and clearly Nate did not use that time to take care of shaving business. Which is just as well, It’s not as if Deadpool had no sense of control or, or pounced on him as soon he appeared in the safe house.

And no, he did not want to rub Mr. Scuffle Wuffle’s face all over his body until every fiber of his being had been thoroughly stimulated. No.

He can contain himself.

“Wade.”

Nathan’s voice is strained. He has a strange pained look, like he’s ill or has just seen something out of a horror film.

Deadpool slaps his face to do the face test.

**_Yup. Wearing face. Could be the dress._ **

Deadpool looks down at his current attire.

“I can’t do this.” Nathan says, his face still stricken with that awful look. He gently pushes Deadpool away.

“Oh. It’s. You said. I mean, you know. It’s, it’s.” He’s not sure what it is.

“You look like my mother.”

He had not been expecting that. Deadpool tilted his head. The wig shifted, and fell off his head. Nathan caught it, and put it aside. Deadpool slipped it back on.

Deadpool had just come off a mission with Logan, and did not have time to change.

“Jean Grey is your--”

“No. Her clone, remember?”

Deadpool felt some relief and then settled on the floor next to him. He played the hem of the pretty green dress/uniform.

“Fucking clones. Ruin everything.” He snaps dramatically with a free hand.

They sit in silence for a few moments.

“What if,” Deadpool pauses as Nathan abruptly stands up, and leaves the room. A few seconds later he reappears holding a box out to the other man.

“An unsolicited gift? My favorite!” Deadpool kicks his legs up wildly as he accepts the gift.

“I was going to wait until later, but now is a good time. I guess.” Nathan shrugs.

“Now is always a good time. I always hated later. Does that make me timesist? Or is it futrurist?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Deadpool threw the top of the box behind him and dug through like an impatient child on Christmas.

What he pulled out was a passionate red dress meant for dancing. He looked at Nate.

“Is this a joke?”

His voice nor quite as strong as he would have liked.

**_This is Nate, stupid._ **

“Joke?” Nathan is so adorable when he’s confused, it’s almost disgusting. Deadpool shakes thoughts from his head. He stares at the dress.

“Wade or Wanda, I thought we’d go out dancing.”

**_Of course he would remember that._ **

_“_ Is it the color?” Nathan rubs the back of his head. He’s never been good at picking out dresses. To be fair, it’s also never been a skill he’s ever needed.

 _“_ They had yellow,” he continues,” but that just seemed wrong somehow.”

“Not the color.”

“Size?”

Nathan is terrible at this. He wishes he had stuck with pearls.

“You got me a dress because you want to go dancing.”

“You don’t have to wear it. I just thought. I don’t know. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

“Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun. Guy wearing a dress. Hilarious.” He really wanted to wear it.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Deadpool, with shaking hands, threw off his current one and ran to the bathroom, clutching the red one.

“Should have stayed with the pearls.” Nathan sighs.

After some time Nathan hears soft footsteps.

“Listen Wade, I didn’t mean to,” he turns to face him, but the words die. Wade, wearing his mask and Jean Grey wig, is now all dolled up in that red dress. Deadpool looks down, no confidence. He still shaking a little.

“You look incredible.” Nathan is floored. He cannot find better words to state what he’s seeing or feeling. He walks closer, Wade is about to bolt, tear the dress off, and hide.

“Incredibly stupid, I can’t” Deadpool starts to leave, but Nathan catches his wrists and pulls him close.

“Stunning, alluring, radiant.” Nathan says. He brushes some red locks behind Deadpool’s ear.

Deadpool slowly lifts his head, flattery notwithstanding, he’s still not quite sure what to feel.

“It’s just a dress.” That’s more for Deadpool than Nate, but he responds anyway.

“You’re right, but you wearing it gives it life.”

“You said you wanted to go dancing?”

Nathan moves away some. Deadpool frowns and then scolds himself. Time melts, swirls and fizzles around them.

They are no longer in the safe house, but on the beach. There is a cute little shack that is hopping.

“Where are we? When are we?”

“Havana, 1950.”

“You. Here.”

“Yes.”

Nathan pulls Deadpool along to the hopping shack. Few people are dancing, swaying, moving to the cadence, and tempo of the music being played by the band. Those dancing are no longer part of this world, but one with the music

A dance line is being formed and people are being pulled in, as it comes around again, Deadpool is grabbed, before he can stop or free himself. It doesn’t help that Nathan shoves him along.

It’s fast. Melted. Vivid. Technicolor, over saturated, loud, quiet, happy, and painful. He’s a prime color in a world of black and white. He can see the music and he’s pulled along with these people. A woman grabs him, and they dance as if they’ve been partners for life.

They weave in and out through others, who do the same, they do not touch, crash, or bump into objects or people. It’s all fast, loose, magical.

He’s seemliness passed along to someone else who catches him, and he’s dipped low before being twirled around swiftly and the new dance picks up the pace.

In this moment, in this place. Deadpool, no Wade Wilson belongs. He is dancing. He’s wearing a pretty red dress, and he feels fucking radiant.

“So,” Nate asks, as they come together when things slow down.” have you been wooed?”

“Oh. This was you “wooing” me, eh?”

“How’d I do, and I thought you said Canadians don’t use, “eh.”

“We do, just not the way you think we do.”

“Anyway.”

“Maybe there is some wooage, but I’m not swooning.”

“Will have to work on that then.”

“You better, I deserve it.” Deadpool pokes him in the chest.

“You do.” He agrees.

Deadpool rests his head against Nate as they slowly dance in the moonlight.

 

\--

 

After a few hours, Nathan takes Deadpool back to the safe house where they started.

“So, how long are you staying in the present?” Deadpool hates this conversation, but needs it out of the way. Talking will give them more time, because, words, finding them, saying them.

Nate hesitates.

“The X-Men need my help with something.”

“With what?”

Deadpool walks over to the deprived liquor cabinet, which is really just a shoebox full of rubbing alcohol, and one can of beer. He tosses Nate the beer, he catches it.

“A space thing.”

“Fun.”

“It w-has potential.”

Deadpool pauses pouring his own drink.

“You were going to say, “was,” weren’t you.”

Nathan says nothing.

 **“** How long have you been in this time?”

“Not that long, really.”

Nathan drinks his beer. His mouth has become very dry.

“What’s “not that long,” Nathan.”

Nathan says nothing, his lips still on the beer.

“ _Cable_.”

Nathan knows he’s in the dog house now. Eyes are dangerously narrowed behind that red face, and the codename useage. Shovel to ground. Begin your digging!

“Two weeks.”

The glass Deadpool’s holding shatters in his hand.

“ _Two weeks_.”

“I was with the X-Men the entire time. This is literally the only free time I’ve had, and I came to you.”

Deadpool says nothing. He pulls shards of glass from his gloved hand.

“I would not have been able to give you any time or attention if I showed up sooner.”

“When do you go back?”

“Tomorrow, but I won’t be gone as long this time. I promise.” He walks closer. Deadpool turns his body slightly away. Stubborn. Does not want to hear it, but does not to completely close off from Nate.

He holds him close.

“You break your promises.” His head turned up slightly. Nathan cups his face, and turns it to face him.

“Not the ones I make to you.”

Deadpool moves his head closer, tilts it, and he’s about to show those damn lips that he--

“Wiiiiiiiil-Sooooooooooooon.” A voice sings from the doorway. Deadpool pulls away. His body language changes. Nathan turns to the door and then back to Deadpool.

“Cooooooome Ooooout to plaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaay!”

“Is that Sabretooth?” Nathan is puzzled.

Deadpool responds by grabbing onto his shoulder hard, and then punching him in the face, just enough to knock him out. He carries him over to the broken couch and gently lays him down.

“Holy shit, Wilson. Did you just kill Cydick’s son for real this time?”

Sabretooth is holding a six pack and reeks of blood. He whistles and laughs as he looks over the unconscious Nathan.

“No.”

Sabretooth shrugs, then opens a beer. He throws the rest at Deadpool who catches it and then drops it on the couch.

Sabretooth takes notice of Deadpool. He’s slightly drunk already. He laughs, hiccups, and laughs.

“What are you wearing?”

“This? Oh. Weird mission. What’d you want?”

“Oh, you know. Been all kinds of tense lately. Thought you could help me relive some of it.”

“Not here.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

Deadpool starts to take off the dress, when Sabretooth interrupts.

“No, no, You can keep it on, it’s starting to work for me.”

Deadpool shrugs and goes outside. Sabretooth finishes his beer and follows.

 

When Vickie comes round, Wade knows what to expect. Rough, primal, brutal, and quick. Half of the foreplay is them literally tearing each other apart. Blood, unfortunately, is their aphrodisiac.

It’s wild, tumultuous, chaotic. They bring the world around them to ruin. It’s a drug, their sex. Wade _craves_ it. Sometimes when he’s just been left by Nathan or spent a good time with anyone else.

He calls it his balancer. He needs to be brought back. In Wade’s mind, he cannot have good things, so he needs to be reminded of the reality of the vile person he really is.

He’s unnatural and wrong, so it’s stand to reason that he cannot have pretty things, like red dresses or affection.

Nathan can make him feel so damn good about himself, he could dance on air.  Wade though, is not meant to be with the stars or happy. He’s not even people. It’s not Nathan’s fault. He will never understand.

Nathan is not from this culture or this world. He’s so far ahead he’s never present, even when he’s in the present. So, how could he understand?

Wade needs to be brought back to reality when his time with Nate is over.

He likes it. Honest. Really. It’s fine. It’s good for him.

Vickie Creed though? His kitten, he gets it. He understands. He knows what Weapon X was capable of, as he was one of their toys.

He’s good for Wade. He’s what he _deserves_. Nathan is just what he _wants_.

As soon as he’s sure that Sabretooth has most definitely gone, Deadpool gently rouses Nathan.

“What the hell happened?” He looks around. He grabs his head with both hands.

“You hit your head.” Deadpool says lamely.

“What happened to the dress?”

Deadpool looks down. It’s filthy, ripped, and now good as a rag, not a dress for dancing. Deadpool shrugs.

“I was never meant for this anyway.”

“Yes, you are. I’ll get you another one. “

 

\--

 

True to his word Nathan did show up more often, and they spent more time together. People were starting to notice. This does not always have to be a bad thing. Wade is paranoid though. He will always deny when asked, no matter how much he does not want to.

Weapon X scientists are still out there. They are just waiting. Bidding their time. Should Wade make the catastrophic mistake of having a family, they would be found. Taken away. Become the new pet project.

“What’s Nathan Summers to you?” Tony Masters asks. He does not really care, but he’s bored, the radio he brought is doing nothing to amuse him, and at least Wade could be somewhat entertaining.

“Oh. You know. He’s like a cockroach. He just won't die! That’s why I keep taking those hits. I promised myself it would be the self that kills that self. Meaning him, not me.”

“Right.”

Tony steps back to admire his work. He had been commissioned by Wade to set up a gym of sorts. To design something to challenge him. Make him better, stronger.

“It’s done. What is your goal again?”

“To be able to roll up a 67’ Impala into a ball, and then throw it from Staten Island, and hit Dr, Doom in the face with it.”

He acted out this out as he spoke. Tony’s eye twitched. Ask a simple question.

“Good luck with that one.”

Wade nods, claps his hands together, and gets to work. Tony sighs, and goes back to his car.

Nathan, however, is oblivious.

“I told the X-Men about us.” He says all casual, and careless.

“You what? Why? Huh?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I mean, no?”

“OK then. One of my old teammates is getting married. I’d like you to go with me. It’s, uh, this weekend.”

Wade considers this.

“Do I have to get them a gift?”

“No.”

“Sure!”

“Good. I talked with the girls. They’re looking forward to spending time with you. Especially Emma.”

“ _Especially_ Emma? Why am I so especial to her?”

Nate shrugs.

As soon as they reach the mansion the females swarm Wade, and he’s taken away. Nathan waves awkwardly. He is greeted by his old teammates. He goes off them in the opposite direction.

“Your duality is fascinating,” Emma tugs at the red wig he’s wearing and lets it fall limply. Rachel is going through the closet, pulling out, and putting back dresses.

“He told you about that?”

He wants to paw at her to leave him alone, but she is not being cruel, and that is holding his interest.

“You’re wearing a wig. Your dress is clearly picked out by someone who knows nothing of the female body.” Emma gives him a very intense once over.

“Uh. I kind of like--”

She ignores him. She walks around him, evaluating him.

“You are not utilizing what you have. You have a full figure.”

“She’s right,” says Rachel,” you have curves, which is odd, but true.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” Wade laughs hysterically.

“I cannot, will not abide by this mistreatment of such a gift.” Emma takes a step back, looks down, and up again. She taps her lips with her fingertips.

Rachel comes over with a red dress and holds it up to him.

“Red is his color.”

“No. We’re using proper personal pronouns.” Emma takes the dress from Rachel, hands it over to Wade, with a free hand points to the bathroom.

“Sorry. _Her_ color.”

After a moment Wade returns in the new dress. Rachel claps. Emma’s lip twitches slightly.

“You look good, for what we have.”

“Why are you doing this?” Wade pulls at the dress.

“Because if we women abandoned each other, who can we look to?”

“I’m not even sure if I am--you know, this whole duality thing is really--”

“We’re here to help with the woman lessons. Should you still feel you can handle that, we’ll be here.”

“Emma even wrote a guidebook!” Rachel goes to the corner of the room, fetches said book, and hands it happily off to Wade.

“Those are _basic_ lessons and guidelines.”

“Right.”

“We’re glad you came.”

“Yes.” Emma says coolly, with a hint of a smile.

As he leaves Emma and Rachel, Wade feels like he has been walking on air. He’s wanted. Like, really freaking wanted.

He doesn’t hear the strange coughs, Hank muttering about close minded fools, or the looks of pity, confusion or irritation.

“Cowards!” Someone shouts. Wade does not hear that either. He’s trying to find Nathan.

He’s checked the kitchen, the pantry, the various labs, and now the Danger Room.

“Nate isn’t here. I think they took him out for the Bachelor Party.” Forge does not bother looking at Wade. He’s programming. He hates being bothered when programming.

“Hope they don’t take him to strippers. They make him sad and confused.”

So since he had nothing else to do, he went back to Emma. After a few hours of womanly lessons, he went the couch near the front door to wait for Nate.

He fell asleep there.

“You are vile.” A voice says harshly. Wade tries to ignore them.

“I’m protecting my friend!” Says a another.

“ _Protecting_ ? _Protecting_?” A new voice.

“I wonder what Scott would think of this idea of “protection.”

“Scott was not willing to act--”

“Because this is disgusting!”

Wade really wants to stay asleep, but these voices are at war. He slowly pulls away from sleep, and comes to the waking world. He blinks, rubs his eyes, and stretches. He goes to where he hears the voices, near the kitchen.

Wade watches them as he goes to the fridge to find food. They notice his presence. The atmosphere becomes cold, heavy, and static. Emma, Rachel, and Ororo, and two others he cannot remember. They’re not protagonists, so they don’t count anyway.

“What’s going on?”

Scott chooses that time to make an appearance. He smiles

“Good morning.”

His smile falters, when he sees how serious everyone is.

“Oh. What happened? Is it--Emma?”

“Scott, these idiots--”

“I stand by--”

“You will be _silent_.”

Emma leans forward, whispers into Scott’s ears. When she finishes, he turns to the other two men. He opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak, but stops. He turns to Emma, before spinning around and punching one in the face.

He then runs out the door.

“Whoa, what did you do?” Wade cannot help but be amused and aroused by violence.

“What had to be done.”

“You really believe that don’t you?” Rachel is not amused.

“What had to be done?”

“Oh, so not only are you a sexist bigot, but a coward too? Shocking.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on, or get me popcorn if there’s going to be a throw down.”

“No? Fine. I will. Dear, they had Nathan institutionalized.”

Wade waits for this to process and then he laughs. Full body. He ends up on the floor. Emma, not amused or phased, kneels by side.

She touches his shoulder, trying to bring him back

“They did this because of your relationship.”

That sobers him up.

“What?”

Emma nods.

“He-what?”

He’s falling through the clouds, the parachute has a hole, and he’s going to land in a pile of broken glass.

“You cannot tell me Nathan is of sound mind if he’s with _that_!”

Wade wastes no time. He half crawls, half runs towards the door.

 

\---

Sabretooth gingerly opens the door. The door is pushed hard into his face, he stumbles backwards and then rebounds.

Deadpool.

Sabretooth licks the blood from his teeth.

  
“Oh. This’ll be fun.”


	3. In Which Emma Frost Keeps Her Crown

Emma Frost will not have her time wasted. She does not give up or let things go when she has her mind set or wants something.

It wasn’t hard to track him down. She didn’t care for the chase or the place she found him. The sight before her is pathetic, she sighs in disgust and kicks at him with her foot, gingerly. She does not want to have to get rid of these pair of heels, she is rather fond of them.

She is not fond of the sight in front of her.

“This is what we do when we have a bad day?”

He chose not to respond. Emma would not have her time wasted.

“You’re being a child.” She tossed her head to the side. She sighed, which was more of a huff. Teacher is not amused. She crosses her arms. Now please write.” I will not waste teacher’s time.” on the board…

“Fine. I’m a child. You can go now.”

“Life is rife with cruelty. You know that better than most.”

He scoffs. The closest thing to amusement. She keeps going.

“How on earth did you survive that awful place if this is what you do? They’re laughing at you, so you bend and fold? Where’s that fighter who took on an army of a god on their own?”

“They’re not home right now. Feel free to leave a message on your way out.”

“I’d like to speak the _person_ , please. No caricatures. What is it that your followers say about you? Ah, yes. You’re the walking internet meme.”

“That’s meeee.”

“If that were true Nathan nor Logan would spend more than five seconds with you. I wouldn’t be here.”

“Why _are_ you here?”

“I saw the start of something. Just a flash, a glimpse and I’m intrigued.”

“Nate told you we were seeing each other and you had him sent to Bellereve. Why shouldn’t I just shoot you right now?”

She rolled her eyes as she heard the click of his weapon

“You are certainly welcome to try.” Her skin transformed.

“For the record, I had nothing to do with what those idiots did. _None_ of the X-Men were involved.”

“I was starting to feel good. That maybe there was hope for me. But fuck it, like everything else it was taken from me.”

“Your first mistake is measuring your worth through personal relationships. You didn’t have hope because of Nathan. That’s you. He’s just a treat, a bonus side effect.”

This is getting her nowhere.

“The world had you at its knees. You buckled. That’s fine, but you strike back at the heart after that happens.”

The engine squeaked for a second, but the car is still sitting. Emma felt a headache stirring.

“I came here because I meant what I said at the mansion.”

He lowered the weapon and looked at her

“If you’re serious. No more of these games. No more playing up the dunce psychopath. You’re intelligent, stop pretending you’re not.”

“That’s my thing.”

“Yes. It’s called cowardice.”

“Want to shoot you again.”

“Try it and see what happens.”

He sighs. This is pointless. He shrugs and tosses the pistol to the side. He hugs his knees and sighs. He’s rather exposed here.

“What do you want me do to?” He looks up. He reminds Emma of a lost child, mommy’s dead, and he needs a new caretaker.

“First, I need you to put on pants.”

The second thing that Emma had him do was come with her back to the mansion. Scott was sorting out the Nathan situation, and Emma is not letting Wade run and hide from the world.

Doctor Nemesis corners Wade. He hands him something as they shake hands that Wade had not offered.

“Hank and I are taking bets. I think I can fix your skin situation.”

“James.” Forge, the long suffering, whatever he is to James, sighs.

“What does Beast say?” Wade really does not care.

“Who cares? I’ll fix this and get his money. Try this first. Twice a day. Don’t bathe for an hour. Needs to seep in.”

Forge and Nemesis walk down the other end of the hall, while Wade gives Emma a look.

“James genuinely wants to help you. This may surprise you, but not all of us are against you.”

So there we go: Mansion round two. Emma wasn’t wrong. He did receive some good vibes as people greeted him happily as they passed him. Bobby and him chatted over shows they liked. Beast suggested books and picked up on some Deadpool influence as his sarcasm points went up.

All that good humor threatened to peter out when he went to the kitchen for a snack. Logan was there, nursing a beer. He nodded at Wade before he went back to ignoring the world.

Wade recognized one of those caring individuals who sent Nate on his little trip upstate. His body grew cold, he felt tingles, and he really, really wanted to run. He clenched his fists, bite back the scream, and tried to remain cool.

What he got was the sound of his own growl and a bloody lip  So much for keeping cool. He licks his bloodied teeth. Logan looks over.

“Hey, you’re with that new X-Force group.” Logan says. The kid nods. Logan smiles. He’s up to something. Wade tilts his head. He knows that smiles means something.

“How’s the training going?” Logan walks over, sets his beer on the bar counter and takes a seat next to the kid. The young mutant feels a swell of pride. _The Wolverine_ is talking to him!

“Good, I guess. I mean Cable doesn’t let us doing anything too crazy. He says we’re still, I don’t know, testing water. Won’t let us swim.” The Kid narrows his eyes at the ground.

“Do you use the Danger Room?”

The kid nods. Logan feigns contemplation.

“What you need is a sparring partner.”

“Yeah.” The kid says.

Logan gets off the stool.

“Well, come on then.”

The kid doesn’t move. He’s kind of freaking out. His heart races, he can feel his face turning colors.

“Not gonna wait all day. I’ll be in the Danger Room.”

The kid says nothing. He’s trying not to hyperventilate.

Logan nods at Wade to follow, he does. He’s not sure what Logan has planned. When they get there, Logan lets the kid in first, but turns to Wade,

“I think you only need two minutes. No killing. Just rough ‘im up. If you’re still pissed off, we can thrown down.” Logan steps aside.

Wade enters, as soon as the doors shut, he rips open the control panel for the doors and pulls the wires out.

“Why’d you do that?!”

“Oh, you mean it’s not meant to do that?” He pulls at the wires some more. He can hear Logan pounding on the door. He has more than enough time.

He stretches his arms and bend forwards, to get his back sorted. He doesn’t really need to do this, but making the prey wait is half the fun. He doesn’t need to see the kid’s stupid face to know he’s panicking a little.

“You wanted a sparring partner.” He turns to face him. He bows. The kid is looking for a way out. Wade casually walks over to him.

“Where’s Logan?” The kid is panicked. Wade approves. He cannot keep his smile off his face. The kid tries to find an opening, but results in dropping his own guard. Wade strikes him, then sweeps him off his feet.

The pitiful thing lands hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Wade kneels down and then moves to kid to rest over his lap.

“You’re not very good at this.” Wade runs his fingers through the youngin's hair. He caresses under his chin, then gently moves his fingertips along his shoulder and then down his arm. He locks their fingers and lifts his arm.

He moves his fingertips to gently touch his palm and then circles the wrist, The kid’s breathing hitches.

“You’re right about a couple of things. I’m dangerous, unstable,” Wade snaps the wrist casually,”

“I like killing, but I don’t want to be That Guy on the team. Wonder how Monty is these days.” Wade waves the injured wrist as he speaks. Wade is a gesture kind of talker.

The kid screams, hisses, cries out, and his back arches and jerks with each movement. Wade uses his other hand to pat his cheek.

“I’m not a virus. Sure, I’ll accept pariah, but I’m not actually contagious. Nathan cannot “catch,” he uses the hand that’s the broken wrist to air quote,” my mental problems.”

“I like Nathan. I like how he feels, how he tastes. I even like standing next to him. I feel dainty and precious, like an elf. I like elves. Have an ex who is practically an elf.” The kid noises are starting to become less amusing. Wade’s anger is starting to rise.

“When he wraps his arms around me,” Wade closes his eyes and his moan is a soft purr,” he doesn’t belong to you anymore. You have no right or claim over him.” His eyes spark red fire.

He adjust the kid in his lap, he lowers his head, so their cheeks, just caress, touch, but are still apart enough.

“He’s _mine_ now.” He strokes under the kid’s chin with the back of his hand.

“If you pull something like this again, try to take him from me,” The doors open. Logan and Forge are in. Wade is not quite finished.

“I’ll end you.” He kisses his cheek. The kid is shivering, shaking and crying. Wade is bored of this. He pulls away. He looks down and then hits him in the side of the head, knocking him out.

Logan pulls Wade to his feet, this had not been exactly what he had intended.

“He’s not dead.” Wade breaks free from Logan’s grip easily and walks to his next destination.

 

\---

 

Nathan is not having a good time. His head feels both full and empty. His vision is distorted. He has no idea where he actually is, only that the room is too white. He’s pretty damn sure he shouldn’t be here, wherever here is.

The door to the room finally opens. Nathan squints. Is this his savior?

“Mr. Summers, my name is Emrys Killebrew.” Nathan says nothing.

“I’m here to help.”

“Can you get me out of here?”

That emptiness is what hurts Nate the most. He doesn’t understand how he got here. He needs the X-Men.

“Of course, but first I need something from you.”

“If it gets me out of here. What do you need?”

 

\--

 

“So, you’re going to be serious.” Emma tries to keep cool. Rachel is trying not to bounce. This is a good day after all.

“When you say, “serious,” Emma points to the door,

“Get out,”

“I mean, is there is a pop quiz Professor Frost?” He sits down on the bed. He does his best student impression.

“I’m only helping if you take this seriously.” Emma reminds him.

“You will not waste my time.” She narrows her eyes.

“Sometimes I _know_ for sure, other times It’s the opposite. I _know_ I’m _supposed_ to be a _boy._ Then something switches and that’s _bullshit_ because I’m supposed to be a _girl_. It never ends.” He Wade grabs his head

Emma walks over and sits down next to him.

“This is the person I want I know, Wade. You.”

“I don’t know which Wade I am right now.”

“In this moment, what does your heart tell you?”

He scoffs, he chokes on a chuckle, and tries not to cry.

“My heart?” He’s to keep the hysterics back. He shakes his head. He wants to move away from her.

“Wade.”

“I think.” He can’t find the words. Rachel walks over and holds his hand.

“Whisper if you can’t say it out loud.” Emma leans over. He blinks. He considers it. He takes a breath and does.

Emma says nothing. She stands up, goes to a bag on the floor and presents it to Wade. He stares at her oddly, before he opens the gift. He pulls out a very pretty, a very expensive and fashionable blonde wig for women.

“You’re a natural blonde aren’t you?”

He nods, his mouth agape. Rachel half glares at Emma.

“Welcome back.”

“He looked good with red.” Rachel pouts.

“We’re blonde, get used to it.” Emma turns her attention back to Wade.

“Now we begin.”

 

\--

 

Scott finally has some success: Nathan is finally allowed to be released into his custody. He shakes the doctor’s hand, Killebrew or something. He does not care. Nathan is free of that place and he can take him home.

Nathan’s head still feels too empty. He has a dreamless nap as they drive back.

Nathan walks the walks of the mansion in a stupor. He can hear whispers, feels stares, but it means nothing. He wants the noise back in his brain.

“Nathan?!”

Nathan turns. A strange blur and he’s being held by something warm and red and blonde.

“They drugged him. Of course they did.”

Nathan looks at them blankly. He’s being half choked by a creature he can hardly recognize.

“You look terrible.” Wade checks him. Nathan blinks.

“It’s empty up there.”

“Upstairs?”

“I can’t hear. Can’t feel.”

“They blocked off your telepathy.” Rachel hugs her brother. Cutting a telepath off from the world is cruel.

“You can do that?” Wade taps Nathan’s forehead.

“Yes. It’s only temporary Nathan.” Emma says, anger coming through ever so slightly.

“Is he going to be OK?”

“Can we go home?” Nathan asks Wade. He leans into him. He’s tired.

“We are. The X-Mansion.”

“No. Home-home. You, me, home.” Nathan cannot keep his eyes open for very much longer.

“ _We_ don’t have--wait--are you asking me to live with you?”

“We don’t?”

“I mean, I stay at your safe houses sometimes, but no? I don’t think so?”

“Oh. Move in?”

“Mm. No. Ask me again tomorrow.”

Wade walks Nathan to their room at the mansion and help him into bed. Several hours later, as the sun rays pour through the window and cast brilliance over the sleeping couple.

“Wade.”

“Mm?”

“Live with me.

“Kay.”

\--

 

It’s been a few months since that incident, no one talks about it.  Deadpool has happily and enthusiastically taken on the mantle of X-Force antagonist.

Which is here we pick up here. Nathan has a massive headache developing. Neena has been screaming into his ear all morning. Logan has asked, pestered, grumbled, growled, popped claws at Scott to be the new X-Force leader in place of Cable.

“He can’t separate personal and pleasure. GIve me X-Force.”

Scott would eventually concede. Logan and Scott did actually respect and trust each other.

However, for now X-Force is Cable’s team.

Nathan pulls at his face and the video feed Neena sent him plays for the umpteenth time.

Simple mission. Easy. Routine. One man job. All that needed to be done was a simple pick up. Just pick up a file and go.

That’s all.

It’s even looks like it’s going to happen,

That new kid, Everett? Evan? Names are useless to Nathan. Anyway, he has the file.

And then.

Deadpool.

Nathan reaches into his drawer and pulls out a flask. He pours a shot of whiskey.

Deadpool looks at the camera, to the kid, Then.

Then.

Nathan drinks.

Deadpool snaps the neck.

And is so fucking pleased about it.

Nathan wants to punch him.

Really wants to hurt him.

He tenses and grumbles when he felt those hands suddenly on his shoulder.

“Did you like my gift?” He fights his skin reacting to the hot breath that smothers his ear with that.

The lips that feel ever so lovely against his neck. He really does want to throw him into the wall, but his telekinetic abilities are off duty right now.

“Gift?”

“Mm. That.”

He motions to the video feed. He even sounds pleased. Nathan tries not to shake.

“Murder is not a gift, Wade.” He says this as calmly as he can. His voice is strained. This only further amuses his partner. Nathan briefly considers being single again.

“No?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“This is fun for you? Don’t believe that.”

Deadpool puts a hand on Nate’s shoulder, and turns him so he can slide onto his lap.

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes

He plays with Cable ‘s collar, fixes, folds, tugs it.

“Mm. I don’t believe you.” He twists and adjust his body, so now he’s straddling Cable

“You’re the last person I want to spend time with right now.” He turns his head from him.

Deadpool pouts behind the mask, he turns Nate head to face him.

“Why?” He genuinely doesn’t understand.

“You’re seriously asking that?”

“I am.”

Nate pauses. He scoffs, huffs, narrows his eyes.

“You killed my friend for fun, Wade.”

Deadpool leans back, stunned. He moves like he’s been hit.

“When?!”

“What do you mean, when? You just told me it was a gift.”

Deadpool's  eye lenses narrow. He leans back in. He rests his head against Nate.

“What was his name, his birthday, and hometown?”

Nate does not know how to respond to that.

“If he was a such a good friend, you would know the answers, honey.”  
Nathan opens his mouth to speak, but he is at a loss. He doesn’t even remember the kid’s name.

“I’ll not be made to feel guilty over this.”

“Wade.”

“He was talking to people. He was asking questions about me. People from Weapon X are still out there. I keep you from my public life so _they_ can’t take you from me. He was a threat. I took care of it.”

Then it made some sense. Wade is paranoid and sensitive about Weapon X. Not all of the doctors and scientists involved with the project were killed. It had been made very clear while he had been there, that the scientists held a particular fondness in Wade--he’s their best success. Their favorite.

If they could find him again, they would start again. Wade, as much as he loved attention and publicity, managed to keep certain things to himself--his romantic relationships being the main one.

“I understand that, but there are other ways to do that.”

“No there isn’t. Not when it comes to this. I did what had to be done.”

“What if you were wrong? What if he--”

“Doesn't matter. Not worth risking.”

“You were protecting us.” Nathan says. His anger somewhat less.

“Mm hm.”

“Don’t kill anymore of my people.”

“If they keep their mouths closed, I won’t have to slit throats.”

“I’ll talk to the team.”

“Don’t have to. Took care of it.”

 

\--

 

Emma Frost’s friendship is both fantastic and terrible. Nathan has noticed quite the change in Wade. His self-esteem is rising steadily, as is his confidence. There are days where he _knows_ who he is and that he is Wanda. She wears that blonde wig that Emma had given her on top of her mask--some things are harder to mend, but working on it..

Wanda Goes shopping with Emma and Rachel. They have a good time.  She’ll buy dresses, wear them around the safe houses, and life is good. Nathan is happy because Wade/Wanda is happy.

There is a darker side to those lessons Emma has offered. She did not take into full account Wade/Wanda’s brain, their intensified personality disorder because of the enhanced healing factor and various work of Weapon X, which leads to darker emotions and thought processes.

For instance, jealously.

On one particular evening Nathan met Wanda outside a favorite restaurant. The owner was a fan of Deadpool, so they felt honored anytime Deadpool showed up. Tonight had been no different.

They were seated  upon arrival, offered champagne as they were seated, which had been odd since they were eating at  basically just a fancier Chipotle.

It had been going so damn well. Wanda been playing coy and flirty. This is also the coming out of Wanda. The first public appearance, so this date had to go well.

Then it goes to hell in a fast car.

“Oh my god, are you Cable? You are!” A young woman runs up to their table. Nathan acknowledges the woman politely.

“Hello.” He says. He smiles. He gives Wanda a  quick glance. He can tell behind the mask, they are not too happy. Wanda rests her chin on the palm of her hand, and reaches for a fork with her free one.

“You’re like, so cool!” The young woman is in awe. Wanda taps the fork against the table. Nathan swears he can hear some kind of low growl.

“Thank you. I’m having dinner with,” he’s not sure how to put it,” a

Wanda increases the tapping of the fork. Annoyance is not hidden. The young woman is oblivious.

She leans in and touches Nathan, which is what breaks the camel's back. Wanda stands up, uses her fantastic reflexes, grabs the girl, stabs her side with the fork several times and then pushes her away.

Wanda hands the bloody fork to a waiter as they pass and says in a bored tone:

“I need a new fork.”

When asked later that evening what that had been about and why:

“You’re _mine_. The omega bitch had to learn.” Wanda says this coolly.

“Wanda.” Nathan does not want to fight, but he feels that what she had done is wrong.

“She knew what she was doing. Women _should_ stick together, but we can be our greatest enemy. It’s society and the evil that men do that make us like this, though,”

Nathan does not know how to respond to that.

“She wasn’t a threat to you.” He tries to reason.

“Oh? And at what point were you going to turn away from the attention? I love when women grope me too, but not when I’m out on a fucking date with someone else.”

Nathan turns cold. He did not brush off the advances. He had allowed the young girl to invade his personal space and touch him. A part of him _did_ enjoy the attention.

“You can’t get away with male bullshit with me, honey.”

“I wouldn’t have done anything.” He says lamely.

“I know. I would have killed her first.”

“Yeah?” Nathan really needs a drink.

“Mmhm. I’d save you. Torture: mental, emotional, physical, psychological. All the tortures. You will not humiliate me, Priscilla.”

“I don’t want to humiliate you.” He says.

“Good” Wanda kisses his cheek.

One, two, three,

Nathan relaxes.

Four, five

Wanda's smile fades.

Six.

Her eye lenses narrow.

She glares.

She slaps Nate. He had not been expecting that.

"This was an important night for me."

"I'll make it up to you."

Nathan is no star in the kitchen. To be honest he can do two things, roast things on a stick and boil. So, when he invited, The Hawkeyes, Logan, Rachel, Emma, Blind Al, Weasel, Bob, Rogue Hank, John, ‘Ro, and other friends of Wade/Wanda to dinner and the second coming out, he should have known better.

He cannot cook. Wade/Wanda is the chef. They are ridiculously skilled in the kitchen, as if they had been trained under the tutelage of Jacques Pepin. Nathan can boil and roast things on a stick.

He also could not ask for Wade/Wanda to cook the dinner as it was their surprise dinner. In the end he just ordered Taco Bell.

“Did you forget to pay your electric bill?” Wanda asks as she is led through the dark safe house to the living room.

“Or something.” He says.

Wanda, actually has night vision, so she had just been humoring Nathan. So, when the lights went on, it just caused her to blink a few times

“Oh my god, you’re so pretty!” Kate Bishop squeals. Clint rubs the back of his neck and nods. He’s not too sure how to really deal with this, but he wants to support his friend.

“Do you still have Jeanie’s dress?” Logan asks. He’s trying to be cool. He really wants that dress back. Wanda knows this.

“You can’t have it back.”

“Scott wants it.” Logan lies.

“You’ll just have to wear something else for him,” Wanda pinches his cheek. Logan growls, but his humor is still good.

“Does this mean I have to call you. Ms. Wison now?” Bob is so very confused.

“If you like.”

“Does this mean I can get my porn back, since you’re..” Weasel is hopeful.

“My sexual preferences didn’t change and no.”

Weasel pouts and curses.

“Your voice makes sense now.” Al says.

“What?”

“You sound like a woman who’s smoked for thirty years.”

“Nathan says I sound like Demi Moore and crushed velvet.”

“Romantic putz.”

When guests left Nathan took Wanda to the main event.

“Nathan this is Broadway.”

“It is.”

“You don’t like musicals.”

“I do not. That is accurate. Come on.” He takes Wanda to the theatre and they find their seats. Wanda stares at the playbill. Her heart jumps.

“Nathan..”

“Yes?”

“This was the last play Bea Arthur--”

“I know.”

“She’s here.”

“Yes,”

“Out there, Bea Arthur.”

“Yes.”

“You took me to a play--”  
The lights go dim. Wanda bites her hand to keep from screaming in happiness.


	4. Six Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six seconds can change everything. So do lies.

* * *

 

Six seconds  Six seconds to his change the world, to end his universe, restart his world, his essence, his being. Six seconds ago he was Wanda Wilson. Six seconds later, it’s Wade.

His eyes dilate, his heart races, stops, starts, he calms. The air is caught in the back of his throat, his eyes are tearing, wet, salty, slippery. Slime. He sits up. He needs to leave. He has nowhere to run or a reason why he needs to.

He desperately pats the space next to him. It’s cold now. Empty. Nathan is not here right now, please leave a message.

His body tenses. The voices are shouting, mixing together. He cannot hear, yet can only hear their noise and violence. He cuffs his ears and bangs his head against the headboard.

The white noise turns into a siren. Unrelenting and increasing octaves. The louder it becomes, the harder he crashes into the headboard. He’s vaguely aware of the blood.

Nathan grabs his shoulders, pulls him to halt. Nathan has been trying to get his attention, but Wade could not hear it.

“Stop.”

Wade jerks. He wants to fight, throw him off, run, hide, die, cry. He settles for the latter. He pulls Nate close desperately and clings to him. The siren is faint, but it’s starting to build up in the background once more.

“Make it stop.” His voice is muffled. His head is pressed into Nate’s chest. His body shakes as he weeps.

Nathan is at a loss. He honestly does not know how to help with this. Wade’s harassment is both tangible and psychological. He cannot cause physical damage to a thought.

Once the storm has passed, Nathan gently lays Wade down back on the bed. He lies next to him. Wade turns over and curls into a fetal position next to him. Nathan puts and arm around him. They remain like that through the night and into the morning.

In the cold light of morning Wade turns his head and looks at Nathan. He feels empty. He wordlessly gets out of bed, goes through the motions of dressing and leaves.

Vanessa had not been expecting to see Wade again. They do not part on good terms when their passion ends. The last time the flames burned out, it had been no different. Wade had no time for her and Vanessa would not be ignored or be second place.

So, when she opened the door, his face was the last one she had thought to see. Furthermore, she had no time to think. Wade wrapped his arms around her waist, pushed her forward and pressed her into the wall.

He took right there, the apartment door still open, uncaring for the first time in a long time about being seen or heard.

Vanessa is cruel to herself. She believes that he means it this time. She holds onto him until she can’t breathe or think.

Vanessa holds on tight. Wade tries not to think or feel. He forgets time and space. He doesn’t know where he is sometimes. He likes the view though. Vanessa is a nice blue hue. He loves elves. He forgets how beautiful her true form can be.

“Why don’t we go to the Brooklyn Bazaar.” She says one day. Wade has been staying with Nessa for a few weeks now and they don’t leave the apartment.

“Why?” He has no interest to be out. He turns over in the bed. He pulls at her hair. Vanessa tries to keep her cool. She wants to show Wade off to the world. He’s finally hers.

“It’s supposed to be fun. They have food and music. Little shops.”

“Does that sound like us?” He likes how her hair smells. Lavender.

“It could be.” She caresses his cheek. He leans into her touch, drops her locks. He brings her hand to his lips.

“We are what we are.” He drops her hand.  He rubs his hands down her sides.

“What are we, Wade?”

“Bea Arthur.” He ignores her question. Vanessa frowns. She doesn’t like this game. Can he just want her face? Her body?

“You said that I wouldn’t have to do that anymore.” She will not cry. She tries to keep her voice and resolve strong.

“You can’t take on Mistress’s form. Bea Arthur.”

She should say no. She wants to. She sighs, turns away as she changes her shape and face.

“Hand me that newspaper.” “Bea” grumbles.

Wade smiles wide. He takes her gently.

 

\--

 

It’s like drowning sometimes. He floats up to the surface but someone pushes Wade’s head back down before he can take in air. Down, down, down, he goes. The blanket of darkness and cold wraps around him as he sinks.

Emotions are heavy and prickly like cactus. Pretty words are said, but he knows the truth.

“ . . we’re friends, Wade.”

“You’re not really alone.”

When Wade goes back to his New York apartment, he looks around. The empty space, the piled mail, and rotting food. He takes a beer from the fridge and sits alone in the dark.

Vanessa will always want more. Nate believes in him. Kitten just wants sex. Outlaw lives for the moment, and Typhoid Mary is just batshit.

He drinks his beer.

He’s reflexes are still on point though, as he aims the gun behind him, arm in an arc.

“What are you doing?”

“This place smells worse than a dump.”

“Leave then,” he sighs. His arm is starting to cramp and ache. He will not relent though.

“I came to see you.”

Wade doesn’t know how to respond to that at first. His pulls the trigger. He hears curses and the chair is struck with enough force that Wade falls from it and onto the floor.

“You shot me, asshole!”

“You broke into my apartment!”

“It was unlocked!

“Are you stalking me?”

Wade pulls himself into a upward seating position.

“No.”

“What do you want?”

The other man says nothing. He makes some strange sounds, and cannot seem to look at Wade.

“I just was wondering what you were doing.” His voice sound strange as he tries to come off casual. He’s fighting some kind of emotion. He still cannot seem to look quite at Wade.

“Wait,” Wade starts to laugh,” do you _like_ me?”

The other man huffs, gurgles and chokes. He waves his hands wildly. This only further amuses Wade, whose laughter turns into a bitter sound much like barking.

“Oh, wow. That’s so precious, kitten. Do you want to hold hands? Go steady? Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Wade falls onto his back and looks upwards. Sabretooth is not so amused.

“No!” He’s thankful that the lights are off, because he is sure his skin is scarlet.

“You do! You like me!” Sabretooth turns away and tries not to scream. Wade’s eyes go wide. This is just too weird and kind of magical

“I do _not_ like you. I can’t stop _thinking_ about you. You smell terrible, talk too much, cannot sing and I _despise_ your taste in music. I’m pretty damn sure you have at _least_ two personality disorders you need to check into.”

Wade placed his left hand over his heart and purred.

“Oh, kitten, I do declare.”

Creed bends down and picks Wade up by the front of his shirt.

“You’re like this fungus that‘s buried itself deep inside my brain. I cannot _stand_ you, but I _want_ you.”

“I like the wanting bit.” Wade reaches out to touch his face.

“You’re awful, hideous, insane.” Creed is very tempted to bite off Wade’s fingers are that currently petting his chin/throat.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Creed exhales.

“I really liked this apartment.” Wade says. He frowns. He wipes an invisible tear and mourns the space. Creed watches his actions with curiosity.

“What are you--”

His answer is a fist to gut and another blow to the temple.

**_Yup. We are going to miss this place._ **

Creed quickly recovers and runs at Wade, grabbing him around the waist and charging into the wall.

The said wall cannot stand the force and they break through. There’s an explosion of plaster, wood,etc.

Wade let’s go of all he knows. He grabs Creed’s shoulders and pulls him close, he latches his teeth into his flesh and tears/rips/pulls apart at the flesh.

Blood is nice. Flesh too. Great White got nothing on Wilson’s teeth.

 

\--

 

When the dusts settles, Wade wakes up alone. He’s healed and missing his pants.

“Oh, god!” His poor elderly neighbor runs back into her apartment. Wade gets up and walks through the broken wall and back inside his place.

He grabs a beer from the fridge, goes back to his chair and stares into space.

He has friends. They care. He drinks.

He’s not alone.

\--

 

“You look haunted.” Emma does not care for this location, but it was the only place he was willingly to meet her. The music is terrible, the drinks are weak and overpriced. Each dancer appears to have some kind of low grade fever.

Emma had better entertainment with her old crew. Shaw knew how to run a business.

“Haunted?”

“We all have ghosts.” Emma is tempted to sip from the glass. Wade is on his third beer.

“Closets full.” He’s on number four, beer, not closets.

“Who is yours?” Emma opts not to give in. She pushes it away.

“My ghost?”

“No matter how happy we are, I will never be her. I’ll always have been a member of the Hellfire Club.”

Sharing is caring.

“Don’t know if this counts as a ghost. Weapon X wasn’t all terrible. That’s where I met _her_. Our dates were how I survived. Though I did fuck up at the end. Really thought I could go back to her.”

“A fellow patient?”

“No. Death. _Mistress_ Death. Always have t’ remember. Mistress. Hates being called just “Death.” it’s a _thing_.”

“I always assumed your special relationship with death was a metaphor, not literal.”

“Nope. I don’t get to see her much. Thanos got all up in our shit. Really her fault for not telling me about him. Can you believe she gets jealous? I told her I wasn’t going to be all celibate just because she couldn’t stay on this plane. Anyway, I can’t be with her, it sucks  So, I fuck around and it’s all fine and good.”

“Casual meaningless sex. Know what that’s like.” Emma says with a ghost of a smile.

“And it’s great! It works for me, it’s what I deserve, what I get, because why would anyone want this?” He gestures at his face. His mask is off, but he;s wearing a hat and his hoodie.

“It’s all fun and games until you met Nathan, yes?”

Nerve struck.

“He’s--I don’t know.” He’s turns away and closes himself off. Emma frowns. She did not want to alienate him.

“I didn’t think much of Scott at first.”

“He’s rather bland.”

“I don’t need him, but I don’t want him to go away.”

“Is that why you brought me here? You want me to have kind of epiphany in regards to him? Okay. I like when he’s around. I don’t think of _her_ as much when we’re together, and trust me she’s always there. He’s a time traveler obsessed with a future that will always be hellish no matter what he does, because that’s how the universe works.”

He pauses to drink.

“He'll always choose the clan over me. He’d rather fight Poccy and Twinsy than live here with me.”

“You know him,” Emma says,” you wanted to date him and you didn’t let him run away or stop you.”

“We fight.”

“Yes. You fight because that’s what he knows. You want to go out to the movies? You slap him around, draw blood and he gets it. You go out to the film, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“What’s different now?”

“We went dancing.” His voice is low. Whisper really.

“That’s not a good?”

“He came to me and said, ‘I want to take you dancing,’ and we went dancing. Then he left. Then he came back, and left again, came back again, and left again, and then he wanted to live together.”

“I’m not following. What’s the problem?”

“I stopped having to punch his face! It wasn't wham, bam, fuck me until I pass out, see you in six weeks for the next quickie! He even stopped that, ‘do I know you? Oh, right we have a previously established relationship going on for years, totally forgot there’. He wanted the house, the picket fence. Maybe the cats, the dog and two point whatever kids.”

”You were happy.” Emma started to understand.

“Domesticated Deadpool. I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You’re allowed to be happy, Wade.”

“No.”

“Does this go back to Mistress?”

“It was perfect! Like the first time. It was all there, Weapon X, my grand finale. I took my bow and left the crowd. She was there, and we were finally together. I was actually happy. For the first time in years, I wasn’t in constant searing pain. I was home. After a very long brutal trip, I was finally home. I had Honey in my arms and then.”

“And then?”

“I was torn apart. Every cell in my body. I felt them. My muscles, everything. I tried to stay. I tried so fucking hard to hold onto her. Found out later, it was Thanos. I only “die” for a few minutes. I can barely get a conversation in when I do get to see her. Do you know what it’s like? The one person you love the most and you can only see them for two minutes at a time? I can’t call her or visit, and when I see her.”

He rests his head on the counter of bar.

“I can see some parallels. Nathan’s travels in the time stream, your separation from Death being on this plane. Life and time keeping you from them.”

“I’m too alive for Mistress and I’m not future enough for Nate.”

“It sounds like Nathan was staying. Maybe he’s indulging in his past fetish.”

“No. Marvel rules. I’m happy, so it’s going to fuck up.”

“I think you’re forgetting something very important about your own rules, dear.”

He lifts his head up slightly.

“Your immunity. Don’t you always go on about how the impossible doesn’t apply to you? That you can go against what the,” Emma pauses, she hates to enable insanity but she got no choice here,” writers and editors, because you _know_ things?”

“Well, I mean, yeah.”

“Well, there we are then.”

Wade takes a second to consider his next course of action. He gets up so fast the stool falls and he’s legging it out of there.

 

\--

 

Three safe houses later Wade finds Nathan in the middle of packing. Wade hangs back slightly before he coughs to get Nate’s attention.

“Wade.” He waits for a moment, pausing his actions. Wade shuffles his feet and starts to bounce.

“I,” Wade tries to force the words out, but the resistance is ridiculous,” I may have come to terms with it.”

He takes a deep breath. That was hard. He looks down, afraid to meet Nate’s eyes, but an ounce of courage seeps in, and he raises his head ever so slightly to meet his gaze.

“Terms with what?”

“It.” Wade replies.

“It?” Nathan is puzzled.

“Yes. It.” Wade is losing patience

“I dare you to be more vague.”

“You know what I mean!” Wade stomps his foot.

“Which is why I’m clearly not confused.” Nate shakes his head, slightly amused, mostly lost.

Wade stalks towards him in predatory mode, he has a pistol out and presses it against Nate throat when he stops in front of him. His eyes are narrowed dangerously.

“You _know_ what I’m saying.” He growls out

“I don’t.”

Wade throws the gun aside and grabs Nate’s face, his nails dig into the skin. Nate considers a counter--

“I love you, you _bastard_.” He hisses.

Before Nate can respond Wade kisses him. Then pushes him backwards.

Mic dropped.

Nathan rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh. That.”

“It.”

“Right.”

Wade’s intense glare is still there. Nate blinks and then the light comes on.

“Oh, yes. I, uh, love you too.”

And it’s still there.

One, two, three.

“Wade, I know that--”

Three, four, five.

“-- you don’t have the best track record when it comes--"

“Food run!”

Wade runs out of the safe house, a man on a very noble mission.

Nathan shrugs. He often forgets to count to six.  Wade isn’t gone for too long. He returns with food that Nathan is actually willing to eat.

“You know, it’s weird. I’m actually not in the mood for tacos. Do you like Ahi Tuna? Oh, that’s right, all you have are falcon rocks in the future.” Wade tsks and heads to the sad excuse of a kitchen.

Nathan follows.

“What are falcon rocks?”

“Oh, you know. The shit you eat in the future.” He waves his hand dismissively and turns the burner. He squees. It’s gas, not electric.

Nathan pulls at the collar of Wade’s shirt. Blood. His skin is finishing the healing process, but his shirt is dirty, bloody, torn. It was not like that before.

“Did you steal this food?”

“Hm?”

“Your clothing’s--did you get into a fight with someone?”

“What?” Wade stops. He runs to another room. Nathan shakes his head and Wade comes back, a very odd smile on his face. Like he’s been caught in the middle of killing by S.H.E. I. L. D.

“That!” He tugs the collar.

“This old lady was all in my face about taking the last of the tuna, and I tried, I really tried to be cool, but we really wanted it more.”

“You fought an old lady for food.” Nate arches a brow. He’s amused, doesn’t buy, but he lets it go.

“I know! It’s not even Black Friday!” He walks back to the stove.

“Black Friday is the Thanksgiving thing?”

“No. It’s the shopping _after_ Thanksgiving thing, I swear Priscilla, if you’re going to live in this time you really need to learn the lingo and get with the times. The present times.”

“I have a journal somewhere. I think Steve and I could--”

“Teaching you and Captain America about the present? Who would be the better teacher’s pet?” Wade closes his eyes and pictures the fun times he could have with either and both.

“I think Rogers has done enough to break Tony’s heart.”

“And such a fragile one it is!”

Once dancing around dinner and issues have concluded, dinner is actually served.  Pan Seared Ahi Tuna served with a lemon dill mustard sauce. Nathan would be a liar if he said he wasn’t in a relationship with Wade because of his cooking skills.

Well, he had other talents and skills, but cooking was far more practical and useful. Nathan was all about practical.

“Scott gave Logan the lead of X-Force.” Nathan says casually.

“That’s bad? Good? Who the fuck cares?” He waves his fork widely before destroying his steak.

“It’s timely. It gives me the opportunity to work on this other thing,” Nathan is a much more calm eater.

“Other thing?”

“It’s the early stages. I’m not ready to discuss it yet, but I’ll let you know when the time is right.”

“Oooh, baby. I can be cryptic and weird too. The queasy crow flies at midnight.”

“Hm. Yes. I have plans for the future and It would be easier if you were around.”

“Sure, call me or whatever.” He slides the plate off the table.

“So, sex now?”

Nathan looks at his plate.

“I haven’t finished--”

Wade launches himself at him.

 

\--

 

“This is nice.”

Nate opens his eyes. The light of the morning slowly seeps through the cracks of the window blinds.

Nathan hasn’t time bounced for weeks. Which means that Wade and Nate get to play a lot more than usual. Nate hasn’t felt this contented in a long time, but he can’t help but feel something is slightly off.

Like now for instance.

“What happened here?”

Wade neck is cut. Sliced open really. Nate’s pretty damn sure he doesn’t knife people in his sleep and that’s what he’s been doing as far he knows--sleeping, not knifing.

Wade grabs the closing wound.

“I got bored.”

“Bored.”

“I can be the god of emo if I want.”

“Wade that’s disturbing and not close to being funny.”

“It’s kinda funny.” He lays his head back down.

“No.”

“Agree to disagree.” He sighs and closes his eyes.

“What’s going on with you lately?”

“Nothing new.”

“You’ve never hurt yourself like this before and I don’t believe that’s it.”

“Fine. I had a date with Mistress. I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Oh.”

“And in order to do that--”

“You have to die.” Nate finishes sadly.

“Mm hm. Do you feel better now?”

“Not really.”

“I loved before you and I’ll love someone after you.”

“I know.”

“We have now.”

“Yes.”

“What did you want to do today, honey?”

“Do you have something in mind?”

And then Nate got lost in the noise and he sunk further into himself and set his mind on his plans.

 

\--

 

“ _And why would I do this for you_?”

“I can offer you something.”

“ _And what’s that?”_

“What you’ve always asked of me.”

“ . . . _really_?”

“If you do me this one favor, yes.”

“ _All these years you’ve refused and denied me, you’ll now submit to me?”_

 _“_ I’m a complicated hypocrite.” Nate shrugs.

“ _You are that. We have a deal.”_

 

\--

 

Halloween was Wade’s favorite holiday that wasn’t Christmas. He had no need to wear his face, wasn’t treated like a freak, and everyone loved his Freddy makeup.

“I don’t understand the costume.” Nathan is Han Solo, because the costume is easy. Wade is wearing a darkest timeline French Maid dress with painted black wings.

“I’m Black Swan.”

“He doesn’t dress like that.”

“Fanfiction Version of Black Swan--Gender swapped, baby!”

“Right.”

“What?”

“Fionna and Cake would have been a better--”

“Ah, fuck you’re right.” Wade slaps his face and stomps the ground. Which he regrets, the stilettos are murder.

Wade has been very disappointed at the lack of candy people have been willing to give him.

“Should have adopted that Asian.” He scolds himself after another rejection.

“Your plan to adopt a child for only one day is flawed.”

“I would have kept him at least the weekend before sending him back!”

“That’s cruel, Wade.”

“I would have been nice! Feed him and everything!”

“Would you keep the candy?’

“Uh, _duh_.”

Nathan leads Wade to a cemetery. Wade’s alarms go off as Nate isn’t into this kind of scene.

“Honey, this really isn’t your scene. What’s up?”

“I’ve really come to think of you as a companion.”

“Ooookay. And you chose to tell me this here because, what? Candle light and--”

“I want you to be happy and I realize that as long as you’re here, you can’t be.”

“Spidey senses tingling.” Wade’s breathing picks up. His heart starts to go into overdrive. He does not like where this is going.

“Hurting yourself to see her. That’s terrible. You shouldn’t have to do that, and it’s cruel to keep you.”

“Hurting myself? Oh. Oh.” Wade gets it. He fucked up.

**_Oh, dear. Maybe we should tell him?_ **

_I told you to do that last week._

“Nate, there’s something I didn’t tell you. I’m not--”

“I can do something for you. I have. It’s going to take a lot of my strength to let you go, but I know it’s for the best.”

“Listen, seriously, before you do or say--”

Nate comes forward. He leans in. Wade moves closer. His feet are at war and resting against Nate is a very welcomed plan. He sighs with relief.

Then.

“Uuunf!”

He looks down.

Pain.

Blood.

Knife.

Wade looks into Nate’s eyes, wide eyed, confused, betrayed.

“Goodbye, Wade. She’s waiting.”

Wade grabs the knife and pulls it out. He’s gonna kick his ass, that’s what he intends to do, only for some reason, the good ol’ healing factor isn’t kicking in. More blood pours from his wound.

Wade leans against the headstone and lowers himself to the ground.

“ **Baby.”**

That voice. He’s hallucinating. Has to be. The healing will start soon. He looks down. He’s fading. How odd. That doesn’t usually.

“ **Welcome home.”**

The world is different. He’s in a very familiar place and. Her.

“Mistress?”

She nods. They never have time and he’s wasted so much already, he grabs her.

“ **I don’t like your dress.”**

“We can fix that, can’t we?”

They move in a panicked frenzy. Wade is counting the seconds, he has to be fast, he knows it will not last, usually by the time he gets a litte more naked he has to go, but maybe he can hold on just a little longer.

Clothing removed and bed found.

“This is a dream right?” He breathes in her scent. Dead leaves and rain. He could never get enough of her lovely perfume.

“ **No. This is real.”**

 **“** Knew it was a dream.”

 **“It’s not, babe.** ”

“Gotta be.”

“ **Wade, it’s been more than two minutes and you’re still here. You’re no longer infused with life.”**

 **“** Still could be a--”

She cuts him off with a fierce kiss.

“I’m gonna be so pissed off if I wake up.”

“ **I’ll be here.”** Her bony fingers caress his cheek.

For the first time in a very long time they make love. Wade Wilson got his happy ending. Everything is perfect.

 

\--

 

Wade sits up. He feels like he just jumped back into his body. He looks down and touches his chest. No wound. He lies back down.

“Had this terrible dream, honey.” He moves closer to the form next to him.

“You stabbed me and then I was with Mistress.”

“Actually, I think you _dumped_ me in a _cemetery_. How morbid and pretentious can you get, hon? Even for you. _Really_? And I thought I overkilled literary devices.”

“ **A terrible dream?”**

 **“** Oh, fuck me it’s really real.” He pulls her on top of him.

“ **I told you**."

“So, I’m dead-dead. Really kicked it?”

“ **Yes.”**

Mistress Death nuzzles his neck.

“ **Together, like we should be.”**

 **“** Thaney finally got the hint?” He closes his eyes and moans softly as Mistress touches places he likes being touched.

“ **It doesn’t matter, babe. You’re finally where you’re supposed to be.”**

 **“** You’re not at all curi-aaaah. Keep doing that for the rest of--uuunf.” Needless to say Mistress has found ways to make it difficult for Wade to ruin their moment.

 

\---

 

“Get out.”

Thanos has no time for idiots.

“I just wanted to thank you.”

“I have no time for your idiocy.”

“Yeah, I can see that you’re really busy. The Guardians keeping you on your toes? It’s funny you know, Mr. I R Mad Titan who constantly loses to a tree.” Deadpool dances to his left to avoid being struck.

“I’d strike you down, if you were not already dead.”

“Which is why I came here.”

“Ah. I see. You waste your time. I had nothing to do with that. If it were up to me, you’d never die.”

“So, this wasn’t you? Do you know who I should send the thank you fruit basket to?”

“Ask the traveler.”

“Ask the traveler?”

_**Knew you should have told him.** _

_I was the one who suggested we say something. Both of you said, to wait it out. Not that we should really be complaining. Anyway, go ask the traveler._

_“_ Right.”

_\---_

 

 _“_ **Why does this matter, Wade?”**

 **“** I’m curious and want to properly thank him.”

“ **You will conclude your relationship**.”

“That too.”

“ **He never calls out to me. He’s a survivor. A soldier. Unless he calls, demands for me, I will not be able to go to him. You know this, love.”**

“Not even once?”

They are in bed and Wade is trying to adjust to unlife. For so long he has wanted this, to be in her embrace. He loves her, he has craved, begged, pleaded, killed himself, hurt himself, so many times for this moment. For her touch, her kiss. He should be happy. Complete. Full. He never thinks about the others when he’s with her. Not usually.

“ **This is your world now, baby.”**

 **“** Yeah.”

He turns to her. In his wildest dreams, she’s never looked or smelled so good.

“This is what I always wanted.”

Mistress pull him close. He wraps himself all around her. He is happy.

Isn’t it good? Isn’t it great? He finally got the dream girl.

And yet.

He pulls away.

“ **Babe?”**

 **“** Who’s that?”

He nods to the dying woman in the middle of their bedroom.

“ **Work.”**

She removes herself from Wade and walks over to the dying, screaming woman.

“I have to get back, have to get help. Have to tell them, oh clan mother. Nate!”

Wade jumps out of bed at the sound of that name.  
“What’s this now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after posting this, I realized, he kinda died rather easily didn't he? Don't worry, I'll explain/cover that next time


	5. New Start

“We need to talk about your Wilson Experiment.” Killebrew does not care for his colleague.

“How is your Logan Project?” He counters. He does not need to be lectured by the likes of _him_.

“My project did not escape his shackles and _eat_ my team.” Killebrew did not need to be reminded of such a failure and disappointment. He lost thirteen members of his team because of that incident.

“Twenty minutes he was loose and my word, did he do some damage. We’re worried about you You’re making us look, well,” he pauses and smiles,” it’s not good.”

“You’re destroying the man needlessly. Human connection is important. It drives people, It helps them in the end, reach who they should be. What they are meant to be. Support. Nature and nurture. You will lose Logan because you do not understand him. You do not care about him.”

“The results are what matters. He’s a perfect killer, all I need.”

“All superficial.”

“And you’re better because you think you care? The results are what matters.”

“He’s more man than you know.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Killebrew went back to nurturing his headache. He has an entire team of interns to replace.

“Thank god for interns.” He sighs.

He has a long night of applications to sort through.

 

\--

 

Killebrew followed them to the cemetery. There is something off about Nathan. He did not trust it. He wishes he was a better man, a braver man.

He presses both hands to his mouth and bites down on his tongue to keep from speaking, screaming. He ducks behind the headstone, trying use the night and stone as cover.

Nathan passes him. He is not seen. If he had been, he was not acknowledged.

When he feels brave, he ventures forth slowly. He feels still, slow, sluggish. He is wading through molasses in iron boots. His heart is heavy and electric.

Wade is not moving. Not breathing. Not healing. He should be doing all of those things by now.

Killebrew shakes him. He should be alive.

Killebrew has a lot of work to do.

 

\---

 

Nathan looks down at his dead wife. They are mid battle. Stryfe's men are attaching full force. He hears the screams, the bullets, dust as it moves, shifts, shakes, spreads. She is dead.

He is a widow once again. He’s rather good at that role. Always a widow. It’s funny in a way, considering how everyone says he’s the one who likes dying so much. And yet he’s a widow again.

Hope will blame him for this. He looks across the fray, to see if he can find her. Reach out to her. Let her know. Apologize. Welcome her hatred and fury.

“Who was she?”

That voice. Nathan looks up. He knows he did not pull him to this. Inside his mind. He let him go.

He hasn’t thought of Wade for a very long time.

“Well?”

“You died more than a thousand years ago.” He says.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You look _good_.” He laughs.

“Your surprise _**hurts**_.” The other pouts and hunches shoulders.

“Why are you here? How are you here?” He’s holding his wife and looks to his left. He is not sure why he’s not being attacked.

“What did you do, Nate? How did you do it.”

“Do what?”

“I died. I don’t do that naturally. You did something. What did you do?”

“Oh, that.” He laughs again.

“What did you do.”

Nate looks down at the dead woman in his arms. Her face is covered in blood, and the left half is missing skin and a chunk of muscle. He can see her skull beneath. He wonders if kissing her would be considered violence.

“I let you go.” He says.

“I want to know **_how_**.”

“I have friends, if you believe that.”

“Friends.”

“Or rather powerful people who want to use me. I gave him what he wanted and he let you die.”

“This friend who wants to use you, is?”

Nathan brushes the hair back. She hated when her eyes were covered by her bangs. She always said she would end up shaving her head. She never did. Will never get the chance now.

Deadpool kneels down and grabs Nate by the shoulders. He’s forced to face him.

“He always said I had a knack for war.” He looks away. Deadpool lets him go, stunned. He can’t have heard that right.

“No.”

He refuses to believe. Nathan is a lot of things, but he would never. No. Not for--no.

“You sold your soul to Poccy so I could get some from Death?” The words sound ridiculous. It cannot be true. He laughs at the notion. It’s so damn preposterous.

Nate says nothing. He can’t look him in the eye.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is shrill.

He hits Nate. He slaps him. He punches him. Nate does not fight back. Deadpool tackles him to the ground and they roll past the others. He straddles Nate and his his hands are around his throat.

“Why.” He cries. He wants nothing more than to pop Nate’s head from his neck and shake sense and sanity back into it.

“I wanted you to be happy.”

“How is being a bitch for Apocalypse going to accomplish that!?”

“It’s irrelevant. You get to be with your dream girl. The woman you love. What happens now and on Earth doesn’t concern you. It’s not your universe anymore.”

“This isn’t what I want.” He lifts and bangs Nate’s head against the ground with each word.

“You don’t get to decide what I want or how I get it for me! It’s not your decision to make! I didn’t surrender my brain or free will over to you!”

“Wade.”

“No! My relationship with her isn’t your concern! You had no right! And just so you know, I wasn’t hurting myself to be with her!”

“I saw your wounds.” Nate is so very tired. He tries to reach out, to touch him. Wade moves his head away.

“I was **_trying_ ** to **_tell_** you, but you **_killed_** me!”

“Tell me what?” Nate winces as his head is forced down hard again.

“I’m fucking Sabretooth.” That’s said in a quiet, shamed away. He shrinks back, he winces, flinches, waiting to be hit with a newspaper.

Nate says nothing to that noise. The silence brings back the ire and courage.

“And since you’re an X-Man, I didn’t tell you, because I’d figured you’d react badly.” He’s hides behind casual. He waves his dismissively and places another on his hip, and turns.

Nate is still silent.

“But I didn’t expect you to sell your soul. God, you **_suck_** Nate!”

Wade is so over all of this. He hangs his head. He just wants to go home, maybe watch porn and fall asleep with his hands down his pants.

“Not Apocalypse.” Nate says, his voice low.

“What?” Wade’s voice is softer.

“Not Apocalypse. He can’t do this.”

“You said--”

“Different devil, different war.”

Wade gets off of Nate and stands up. He’s so very over all of this shit. He’s beyond anger. Beyond sorrow.

“It’s not okay, what you did.”  He can’t look at Nate anymore.

“Wade.”

“I hate you so fucking much right now. I want to grind your bones and taste your flesh and blood and feel your heart stop.”

“Wade.”

“That’s what love is, isn’t it?”

He glares at Nate.

“You so utterly **_suck_**.”

He kicks him.

“Babe,” he says to someone Nathan cannot see,” I’m done here.”

Wade fades away and Nathan is left to the dust and war.

 

\---

 _  
_ _“I have no interest in you or whatever it is that you think you can--”_

 _“ **I’m**_ immortal and better at killing than **_everyone_**.”

“ _Immortal? Aren’t you dead, right now? Like the headpiece._ ” He nods at Deadpool’s head, who touches the space and looks up. There is nothing.

“ _Made you look.”_ The devil says. He is amused by all of this, but he cannot admit to that. Deadpool would make a great general, if not footsoldier. Or personal assassin, court jester. He hasn’t thought it over yet.

“So mature. You feed off of misery? Eat me. I’m the sad tragical clown in an iron lung.” He has serious face on. He’s standing straight, ready for war.

“I’m worth a millennia of entrees. I have like 12 books, spread across the universe. The love of my life is literally Death.”

The devil yawns. He rests his head upon his palm.

“I’m a science project that even Clive Baker and Lovecraft couldn’t dream up! I’m not even _human_ anymore! My whole family is dead, and sometimes it’s my fault, other times it’s cancer, and bar fights. There was a thing with a fire once. Not sure I like that one or not.”

No change in interest or posture.

“I’m in physical pain all the fucking time! My skin, my skin,” Deadpool pulls up the spandex on his arm to expose said skin,”sometimes it’s rotting. Other times it’ s just scarred or just really veiny. But it always _**hurts**.” _

There is some interest. He’s looking at Deadpool now, ever so slightly. Deadpool picks up on that.

“My face! Look at me,” he pulls off his mask,”Skeletor is Adonis compared to this shit! And you know, the one fucking time I actually fit in with people, belonged again, wasn’t a raisin skinned rotted flesh bag leper of society, the other love of my life **_used_** me to prove a point while he played Jesus, and then screwed me over while he got everything he wanted, all while knowing full well what would have happened to me and didn’t have second thoughts, because that’s just the kind of stand up guy he is!”

He aggressively pulls his mask back over his face.

“ _Trade Nathan for you._ ”

“No, I just really wanted to have a moment with you--yes, stupid.”

“ _Tread carefully. There may be something to which you say. You have proven a worthwhile treat in the past.”_

 _“_ You’re welcome _.”_

_“I will allow this trade, but never again. I want something more from you. The both of you. You will get that was taken, the cancer, the healing factor, and curse of life, and Nathan’s uh, release from my army, and his own deal.”_

_“_ Yeah _?”_

_“Do you know what the most destructive force in the universe is?”_

_“_ The Arby’s I had for lunch?” Deadpool looks down at his stomach.

The devil smiles something sinister.

“ _Love.”_

 _“_ Uh, say what now?”

“ _Listen carefully. These are my terms. Agree and you walk away with everything you asked of me.”_

“I’m not marrying you am I? I don’t want to be the Queen of the Underworld. Persephone is better at that.”

_“I prefer the Egyptian gods. Anyway, my terms  . . .  “_

 

_\--_

 

 **_“Is there a reason you are doing this?”_ ** Mistress does not want to let him go. They only have a few minutes left.

“I want you on my own terms. This isn’t right. I don’t like it. It’s wrong. When we’re together properly, you’ll have all of me.”

“ **_Does it really matter how you came to me?”_ ** Mistress rests her head into his chest.

She breathes his scent. She should not feel this way. Drained. Emotional. She is death, all of this feeling is so mortal.

“Yes.”

They’re dancing, or were, to the same song the first time. His body is fading now. He lifts her head and brings her close to his lips but he fades before he can make contact.

 

\--

Wade sits up or at least tries to. He’s strapped to a cold metal table. His previous outfit has been replaced with a dressing gown like that of a hospital gown. The room is dark. He does not know this place.

He tries to move his arms, but his hands are in leather bindings.

“Good you’re awake, son.”

The room turns cold. Wade’s eyes dilate, his breathing increased, he fights his bindings.

“I’m sorry, but I had to sedate you. The muscle relaxant will wear off in a few hours and your strength will return.”

“I think you’d better leave town before that happens. Because I will fucking gut you, and ea--”

Killebrew sighs. He is holding something in his hand. A remote of some kind. He presses a button. Wade in turn screams as his pain sensors overload.

“No need for unpleasantness.”

Killebrew holds the remote in the light. He presses it again. Wade’s pain subsides. He’s breathless, and weak.  
“Now, shall we begin?”


	6. YES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You love Time.”  
> “You love Death.”  
> “Time.” He says slowly.  
> “Death.” Nate mimics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a set up chapter and some cleanup. trying to go and update everything before I forget and enthralled by other stories and things.

* * *

 

**Years ago,  Weapon X Facility,  The Hospice Workshop Inner Labs**

Intern 17 knew how to make a good cup of coffee. She practiced at home, read every file, paper, article, and book that Killebrew authored. If there was an interview to watch or read, she’s done watched or read it.

She really wanted to impress him, to be asked to stay on as a personal lab assistant. This would be good for the resume. Good for the career. She wanted to go places, do things.

Intern 17 placed the cup of coffee down by the desk, upon the same ring stain that Killebrew usually put the cup. She straightened up the files on the desk.

She looks around the empty lab. The others are out to lunch, so she is alone. Intern 17 cares about others and likes to play games.

She keeps large notebook with her and a sharpie. No one is around. She takes out the sharpie and writes a message. She presses it against the glass and taps it. She waits for him to pay attention.

_Queen takes Bishop._

Her strange friend stares back, No expression. He’s not even looking at her so much as through her.

She rips off the page and writes something new.

_What did you think of that Friends episode last night?_

His right eye twitches slightly, if she hadn’t been intent on looking at him in the eyes, she would have missed it. He’s usually social. Overly so. Intern 17 does not like this. She thinks back to the past and what has picked up his mood before.

He likes food. Intern 17 looks around. All she has is a bottle of water. She picks it up and goes out the room to the other lab where her friend is.

\------------------

 

Killebrew had another disappointing meeting. Without looking, he reaches for his coffee and drinks. He tries to will the migraine away. There are too many damn boards and chairs. When did it get so complicated to science?

He puts down his cup, and rubs his temples. He needs a hot bath or tall stiff drink of something. He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, and stretches his arms. He rolls his neck, opens his eyes.

Huh. He’s not sure what to think at first. It takes a moment to register. The message is backwards. He looks beyond. He runs out of the room.

This is a first for him. He’s never seen someone murdered by a plastic bottle before. He takes a moment for is brain to process. Intern 17 is dead. Nothing left but a mutilated corpse.

“Where’s your face.” He asks her body. There is something he is forgetting. What brought him here. The message.

He turns.

_Knock, knock, Doc_

To access other labs he needs a--

Intern 17.

He runs to the corpse, checks her lab’s coats pockets. Desperate, He tugs, flings, tears it off of her. He’s on his knees and shakes the coat.

Wade has her access card.

He runs back to his lab, goes for a particular drawer with shaking hands. The lights go out and the emergency generator kicks in.

The screams and blood will sure to follow. He’s never fired a gun before. He doesn’t know the proper name, type brand, whatever. He never liked westerns, and he cannot stand violence.

He goes out the door. He’s so small, He’s shaking. The lights are out. An alarm has been activated.

Red. Red. Red. Black. Black. Black.

Something is out there. Shadows are moving. Sweat gets into his eyes and he has to blink, to clear the eyes.

His footing is lost. The gun bounces like a dead cat in front of him. He crawls forward, but his hands push it away further. He’s no good at this.

Something passes overhead.

 

\-------

**NOW**

“I know you don’t like being bound, but your behavior is violent, and I need to administer your medicine.”

Wade has a very clever and biting response to that, but the good doctor seems to have done something to his voice while he was unconscious.

“You remember the medicine, don’t you?” Killebrew gently traces the vein on his arm..

“You liked this. It dulled the pain. You’ve been out, haven’t you? You know what withdrawals from this will do.”

He goes over to the table and finds what he needs: the needle and the vial. He goes back to Wade, takes his arm, injects. Wade’s body jerks as much as it can. Whatever is in his system coupled with the previous torture, has left Wade rather weak.

“I am going to give you a supply. It’s for a month, with a dosage to be used no more than twice a day. You will not be a junkie. If you abuse this, I will refuse you more.” He disposes of the used needle.

He looks at Wade. He’s burning hatred into Killebrew’s form. Oh, does he want to hurt the little man.

“I never liked having to keep you away from the others. I understand the importance of human connections. Ever since the, uh, incident with those fool children.”

The fool children whom further mutated his DNA towards animal and then some.

“You’ve always had a hint of feral to you, but they unleashed something. I tried to deny it at first. It was too bizarre, too much out of a terrible film or science fiction novel.”

“You have a way with people. Even if someone dislikes you, there is something about you. How many times has Logan killed you, but did nothing to make it last? Or Victor? Or Anyone? They cannot let you go. Or when they find you irresistible? Or just beyond logical reasoning want to keep you around despite a corrupt relationship?“

He moves his hands towards one of the leather straps, binding Wade, tugs at it.

“That’s a pheromone you’re releasing Wade.” Tug, tug, wack, tug.

“When you go,” he pauses because saying it loud sounds so ridiculous,” when you have the burning desire to mate,” he coughs and tries to appear mature and serious,” you release that pheromone. Used it so _you_ could be released and run off to find the--your mate.”

He pulls at the leather and the runs it through the metal buckle.

“We made sure to keep the few females we had in a separate area. It tooks us a longer time to figure out how irrelevant it would be.”

He moves onto the next leather strap.

“You didn’t need a woman.”

He really has a hard time coming to terms with that. He laughs slightly, but straightens up. He’s a mature man of science. This is serious.

“I know you know about that _charm_ you have. You’ve used it to get out of many situations. Why you’re so _dangerous_ and talented with manipulation. There’s a theory you’re the father of the Purple Man. That’s absurd though, isn’t it?”

He brought Wade here for a point beyond recounting his history.

“My previous--they know about Deadpool, Wade. They know your safehouses. They know, Inez, Nathan, and even Creed. They don’t want Logan anymore. Not when you can do what . .  you can do.”

He doesn’t flinch when the hand grabs his throat.

“If you kill me, I can’t tell you where their agent is.”

“If they want me, and know where I am, why haven’t they come for me?” Then he giggles. Killebrew sighs exasperated

“Perhaps they have.”

“Boring. Doc go pop, pop now.”

“If these are going to be my last words, I’ll make them count--Wade”

 

\-----------------------

 

Deadpool found what he was looking for. It wasn’t hard. Follow a tail here, threaten and maim there, and eventually the bread crumbs and candy leads you back to the House of Hell.

He could go about this several ways, but those ways are more Nathan and thought out, and Wade cannot take tedium and meticulous. 

He’s just going to go through the front door. It would be rude otherwise. So that’s what he does.

“Can I help you?” The Fodder asks. Deadpool smiles.

“Where would a bomb make the most damage?” He looks around the room. He tries to visualize the fire.

“Excuse me?”

He ignores them as they do not matter enough to even have a name.

“I know what I need to do. Can you hear it? I think he’s singing.”

“Hear what?”

Deadpool goes to the elevator, pulls the doors open and jumps down.

The finds the lab rats easily enough. Just had to use his nose. Blood, shit and piss, with a little bit of hate, and fear thrown in. Mix it all together now. It reminded him of home. Not home, home, but well.

He releases them all. There is one in particular that won’t leave the cage. He sighs and goes to it.

“The front door is open, you can walk out. Try it. Little foot go forward.” He demonstrates, but ends up doing a weird moonwalk tap dance.

“It’s called freedom, snowflake!” He points towards the door where others are leaving out of.

The thing in the cage, because that’s how he has to view it, launches for him. Deadpool let it make contact. He grabs it and tears it off of him. He tries to prepare himself for what’s to come next.

It stands to make another move, but its head explodes from the shot. Blood splatters across the wall and Deadpool turns to the door. Security has arrived.

“Okay. Now I’m officially pissed.”

He cuts through them all within seconds. He’s not playing today. Not in the mood.

\--

 

Deadpool tries to ignore the blue electricity in corner. He really is not in the mood to play.

“Wade.” He starts.

“Fuck, off.” Deadpool does not turn to address him. He doesn’t deserve that. Nathan tries again, because he doesn’t know any better.

“I understand that you’re upset. I could have handled that better.”

“None of that is the sound of you fucking off. Could you please? K, thanks.” He waves him off.

“We’re adults. We’re going to have an adult conversation. You’re pissed off, I get that. I’m not leaving until we settle and resolve this.”

“How’s this for an adult conversation,” Deadpool turns, “ fuck you. You went behind my back to decide something for me, killed me and left me to die and rot alone. You didn’t think about burying my body did you? You were just going to fuck off to the future, while my corpse rotted where you abandoned it. Guess what, someone found it! And sure, you feel a little bad, because you didn’t talk to me about going off with Mistress on my own terms and ending our relationship in a civil manner. No, you kept up the illusion that we were still a happy couple and then you fucking stab me. You checked out on us and never told me. You lied to me for how many nights?”

“You’re intimidating.”

Deadpool is thrown is off by that. He’s always the mocked one for not being threatening. Nathan Summers saying he’s the intimidating one? Where’s the laugh track? Deadpool turns his head, to try gage where it could be.

“Say what now?”

Nathan nods at his hands.

“You’re waving a very large and sharp looking knife at me.” Nate says. Deadpool looks at his hands. He has no memory of the knife or getting it.

“It’s one of your. . things. I don’t remember you grabbing it, but you have it, and were waving it at me.”

“Oh, well.” He shrugs.

“Mistress was an out for me,” Nate admits, his head low, but he still looks into Deadpool’s eye visors, “ if you wanted her more, I could leave, go about my business. Never have to settle. You love Death? I think I love _Time_. Being with you, it’s different. I don’t want to travel forever and endlessly. I want to take you to places, but I also want to stay. There are things you’re better at than me. You scare me sometimes, I can’t fix your mind. Wade or Wanda, I love you, so of course I left you.” Nate did not mean to rant, but he can't help himself around Wade. It's another one of his things. He has a power and way over him.

“You love Time.”

“You love Death.”

“Time.” He says slowly.

“Death.” Nate mimics.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So because you love me, you dumped me and tried to run off with _Time_.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, that’s not fair. How am I supposed to fight Time?” Deadpool looks over to a clock and throws the knife at it.

“You don’t. I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You’ve said that, and then you left.”

“And I came back. I always come back for you.”

He steps forward.

“I always will.”

“Which means you have to leave.”

“How about, I ask first?”

“And you will obey?” He likes the idea. Nate regrets it, but nods.

“Say it.” Deadpool sings.

“I will obey.”

Deadpool claps and giggles. He loves having power over Nate.

“My friends need help with a thing.” Nate starts.

“Aaaaand are they in the future? You need permission to go back to the future?” That sentence causes Deadpool to giggle even more.

“Would you like to accompany me?” Nate ignores his antics.

“Do I get to kill and hurt things? No judgments?” He asks hopeful.

“To an extent.” Nate smiles.

“Okay. We can go.” Deadpool says, feigning annoyance.

“Thank you.”

“I get to meet your terrible future friends! Is Poccy going to be there? Can we have a tea party? I have a dress that he’ll just love.”

Nate activates the device.

“Wait, for him to wear or you?”

  
The answer is cut off as the blue electricity wraps around them.


	7. Hello Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back where I intended this story to be. It was going to be shorter, heheh. Not happening.  
> I've been going back, chapter by chapter editing mistakes, like using the wrong character name and spelling errors. Because, awesome. Not so awesome about having errors, trying to pay more attention. Thanks for the love

* * *

 

He always thought Cable and Bishop were just being one with their hyperbolic selves. The future could not be that terrible. Wastelands were a film trope. And yet. In his face, his nose, mouth, eyes. All the senses. The debris, the sand, dust.

There is no green. Trees were a lie parents told you at night to give you hope. A fairytale, really. There is no moisture. No water. No wet. Just sand. Dust. Rocks

He does not look forward to coming here when everyone goes away and the world becomes this. He looks at Nate, who has found his clan. A gun is immediately pointed at him by an angry small woman, who is making it crystal clear she hates him for his face and the things that he does and doesn’t do.

“She’s dead.” She says. Her voice is cracked, the gun she’s holding shakes, she’s about to drop it. Nate says nothing, does nothing. He lets her scream and spit.

This wasn’t the welcome wagon he had expected, but Nate does bring out the hate and misery in others. He joins Nate’s side, but he doesn’t do anything either. He just watches. They don’t know him and he doesn’t know them. He can be the background tree again.

“Hope, she knew the risks,” says the man holding her. He smiles sadly at Nate. He tries to pull her back, to calm her.

“I told her not to marry you.” Hope says. She doesn’t look at Nate as she says that. She’s still shaking, but she lowers the weapon. The man holding her, gently takes it from her hands and passes it to someone else.

“Your wives do tend to die.” Deadpool says. He’s surprised to hear his own voice. He forgot he was there.

“There’s hope for you,” Nate tells him. Deadpool shakes his head and glares.

“That’s not how we’re doing that either.” Hope waves her hands for attention aggressively.

“Hi, sorry to break up your whatever. Nathan, this doesn’t change what happened, so don’t think it--”

“I know it doesn’t. She’s still dead and I am sorry.” He means it. It’s a rare thing for a Summers to apologize and _mean_ it.

Hope motions for Nathan to follow to, he does. The others give space before entering the safehouse.

It’s a simple plan and Nathan is perfect for it. Deadpool fades in the background again. He zones out and picks up on the important bits.

“ . . .  then the security feed will pick up. Everyone, and I mean, everyone will then converge on you.” T-Blood says.

“And then, kaboom.” Hope says, with a little more enthusiasm.

Nathan nods. He knows what he has to do.

“That doesn’t give you much time to get away.” Deadpool says.  Nate forget he was there too.

“No, it doesn’t.” Nate agrees. His voice even and emotionless.

“I mean, thirty seconds on the bomb, the security forces. No a whole lot of leg it time.” Deadpool continues.

T-Blood raises his cup of somewhat clean water at Nate.

“To Dayspring,”

“Nathan knows the risks.” Hope is still really bitter. Deadpool can understand that, he gets bitter. He has a few shades of it. He still doesn’t have to like her though.

“You called him here. Asked for help.” Deadpool is starting to understand. Nathan knows his place within the clan.

“We did.”

“None of you could do this?” He laughs slightly, because this is ridiculous. They are silent. Deadpool briefly considers killing them all right then and there. Taking Nate back home and wash their hands of this place.

He looks to Nate, who is staring into the fire. It hits him. Nathan lost so much. All he knows is how to sacrifice and lose. He was raised by these people to be their lamb, ready for the slaughter.

Well, the lamb fell in love with the big bad rabid wolf, and baby was it going to fuck up their play. Deadpool knew what he had to do.

The others left for their tents and bed of bones. Nathan and Deadpool sat alone by the fire. It would have been romantic, being under the stars like this.

“Are you tired?"

“It’s okay,” Nate says, with a ghost of a smile,” I’m used to it.”

They sit together in silence until morning comes. Nathan closes his eyes for a moment, when he opens them again, Deadpool is gone.

His clan waits for the opening. It does not come. Something is off. The guards do not conduct their change of arms today. The palace shuts down. The market closes. Their plan counted on that change.

Three days the palace was closed. Three days Deadpool was missing. Nathan waited. He had a theory.  On the third night, waiting paid off. Deadpool came back. Had his sick stupid smile on his face, which meant he got something terrible done that no one else had the guts to do.

“Who wants pressies?” He called out. He threw something at T-Blood. It was the head of their intended target, their current main aggressor, now dead clearly.

“You got close to him.” Nate says. He sounds so far away. He’s on an island somewhere, he thinks. Deadpool nods, he’s annoyed.

“You mean to say, “thanks,” he wants to slap him. He walks over. He thinks about it. Hope and the others join them.

“You had to.” Nate looks at him, like he’s wounded. Deadpool looks at his hand. He doesn’t think he hit him. He lectures him hand, and all limbs for being disobedient.

“What you’re asking is, did I fuck him?”

Nate looks down.

“I did this to protect you, to save you!! Are you seriously going to guilt or shame me right now?” He throws his hands about dramatically.

“I could have stopped this.” Nate says. He should have. That man was awful. Wade having to be intimate with him. Alone. Nate feels sick.

Then he understands. Deadpool takes off his mask,  he grabs Nate’s hands and bends down in front him so they are level.

“It was **_my_ ** choice _._ You didn’t let me down. My plan, my want.” Wade says, his voice gentler, softer.

“Who _are_ you?” Hope asks. She’s not sure if she should be grateful or angry or disgusted.

“It couldn’t have been easy or pleasant. I’ve heard of the things he’s done to others for _fun_. Should have let me--”

“There’s a difference between a sacrifice and **_being_ ** sacrificed.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It ** _is_** that simple. You’re their lamb. They wanted you for the slaughter and I’m not okay with that. This way, the evil thing still dies and you get to go home with me.”

“Wade.”

“No.”

Nate wants to go to a very quiet place. He can’t help it, but feels like he failed.

“You didn’t fail me.” He wants to smack Nate around until he finally gets it. Nate does not.

Wade stands up and screams. He shouts various curses in different languages, and if he still had hair, would have torn it out

He turns on the clan all of whom have gathered.

“This is all your fucking fault, you know. You warped his damn mind! Is that seriously all you want from him? His death?” He’s had it. They die now. He’s about to, when a hand touches him. He looks over, Nate.

“They’re my family.” Nate tries to pull Wade back. He’s not really feeling all his strength at the moment, but Wade relents anyway. He sits down, crosses his arms, and pouts hard.

“What’s your relationship, exactly?”

“Yeah, Nate, what **_is_ ** our relationship?”

He has no answer.

 

\---

 

It’s night and they are alone by the fire again. The clan has kept their distance. Wade has made it perfectly clear where he stands with their existence, and they do not bother him.

They have been sitting in cold silence. Wade is clearly upset and Nate has to fix this. He always has to fix everything, because he knows how to break everything

“They don’t have a word for it.” Nate says softly. He pokes the fire. Wade turns to face him.

“They, the culture here is different. There is no courtship. We have marriage, but it’s back to being more political than romantic. Romantic relationships are--it’s different here. Wife, husband. They may understand lover.” Nate explains.

“What am I to you? What’s the word they don’t have, Nate?”

“I think at one point you were my girlfriend.” He nods. He pokes the fire again.

Wade looks away. He remembers that. Being comfortable in his own skin has never been easy.

“I think that’s when you were the happiest. At least for as long as I’ve known you.”

Wade makes a strange sound of agreement.

“What happened with that? Are you?” Nate doesn’t know how to ask or phrase his questions.

“Wanda.” He nods.

“Is that? If you feel--that you’re sure.” Nate rubs the back of his neck. He’s no good at this.

“That I want to be your **_girlfriend_ ** ? Or **_Wanda_ **?”

“Um.” Nate replays the sentence. He’s looking for traps.

“I think, I’m Wanda.” Yup. God. They really want their wig now. The hair. They felt human again. Hands reach to the shoulders, old habit. No locks to play with. Getting with the frowny times.

“Is that what you want to be called from now on?”

“Yes, boyfriend.”

Nate feels a strange feeling. It’s possible that it is happiness.

“Also, if your friends ever come back to us, asking you for “help.” I **_will kill_ ** them.”

 

\--

 

Nathan has trouble with tenses and time. He’s a time traveler, so it’s stand to reason he has no proper sense of time. He _knows_ time, has been intimate with time, seen the face and heart of time, their vortex, and all that jazz, but he does not know how to be _on_ time.

Nathan is late to a very important date. A particular appointment of importance. He’s running. He barrels through students, old team members, his father, Emma uses her abilities to push _him_ out of _her_ way.

Then he finds who he is looking for.

Wanda.

She’s looking down at the floor. She’s styled her wig some today. It looks nice. She still has her Deadpool face on though, because confidence and being out in public.

Wanda has an appointment with Nemesis, as he is the only doctor she can trust and allows herself to trust, but she still has the fear.

Nathan stops running and tries to walk and look like he’s not forgotten his promise.

“You came.”

“Of course I came, this is important to you.”

Wanda turns to face him.

“Neena told you.”

Nathan winces. Caught holding the cookies. He tries his stupid, I’m sorry smile.

“It was on my phone’s alert.”

She says nothing. She reaches for his hand, because this is scary as hell. Nate gently squeezes for reassurance. With her free hand Wanda opens the door.

Nathan only half pays attention to what’s being said because he doesn’t understand any of this anyway and he’s only there because he was asked to be.

There’s talk of hormone treatments, skin treatments, suggesting to see a therapist to help with transitions and asks about surgeries, if they are necessary/wanted/,and what can they say about their biology and anatomy.  Wanda squeezes Nathan’s hand so hard there’s a soft crunch.

Nate looks at his hand, his T.O infected hand, which is now broken and mangled. Wanda stares. She’s surprised as well.

“Have you been working out, sweetheart?” He asks trying to come off more amused than in pain. It hurts. So. Much.

She’s nods. She’s impressed by her strength.

”I started to take training and working out seriously again. I broke your terminator hand.” She’s in awe of herself. Nate swears she’s the only person he knows who has a crush on herself.

Then it sets in-- Nate’s hand, her boyfriend’s hand, is mangled and broked. She takes it in both hands, and tries to assess the damage. She kisses it because, magic healing kisses are _so_ real, mama said so. 

Nemesis is trying to appear unimpressed, and annoyed.

“I can probably fix that.”

 

\---

 

There’s something that Nate has not been able to let go. Something that has been on his mind since they reunited. A comment. A confession. He let it go to the wayside since there are bigger issues, but time has passed and he’s not feeling so great about it.

Wanda made dinner. It’s date night. The lights to the house are dimmed/off. She set out candles for their light. Decent wine for Nate, and whatever the hell she could find that could weaken her constitution enough to get buzzed.

It had been going well. Good food, good company, decent drinks. He hasn’t felt relaxed or this happy in a long time.

“You said something the other day,” Nate cannot help himself,” when we met up again.”

She gives him her attention, and waits for him to finish. Nate wonders how he ever gets married.

“You said you were sleeping with Creed?”

She’s taken back by that. She recovers quickly

“Oh, that.” She shrugs and goes back to eating.

“Yeah, that.”

“I’m not sleeping with him.”

Nate feels some sense of relief.

“I’m fucking him.”

And it’s gone.

She’s very casual about this. Nate understands casual affairs, but this is Sabretooth. Mutant feral psycho killer with a weird thing for Logan. Also, Creed kills all of the girlfriends. And anyone else really for fun and amusement. Not a good guy.

“Semantics.” Nate says.

“No. We don’t sleep together. **_We_ ** ,” she motions between Nate and herself,” sleep together. After the sex, we, kitten and I, part ways. We don’t kiss, or hold hands, or cuddle. I don’t **_like_ ** him. **_You’re_ ** the boyfriend.” And with that Wanda is done with this conversation and moves on.

“Could you not anymore?” Nate asks.

“Nate, if you want to keep at it with Domino it’s fine as long as she knows I get priority, and all the holidays. **_All_ ** of them.”

“What?”

Wanda nods.

“You love me, I love you, and it’s fun to screw other people. Look, as long as our relationship comes first, it’s fine.”

“I don’t want to sleep with Neena.”

“I’m not saying you have to, just if you wanted to, it’s kosher, but I come first. No breaking dates to be with her or anyone else.”

“Right. You said you wanted a relationship.”

“I do and we are in one!”

Nate feels so tired and old. He doesn’t feel hungry anymore and pushes the plate away. He holds his head in his hands.

“I don’t understand the problem now. This is what we were doing before, and we were happy.”

“You’re right, we were.”

“Are we good, boyfriend?” There was a hopeful air with the last word. Nate looks at her, he smiles.

“We’re great, girlfriend.”

That was the answer she wanted. She makes the appropriate pleased noises and carries on with dinner. Nate carries on with his drink, and thinks, and plots.

 

\--

“This is supposed to produce the proper hormones or something. Sissy says it will leave me out of sorts and overemotional as a possible side effect.” Wanda holds up the needle. Nate nods. She holds something in her other hand.

“This is supposed to _settle_ my already unbalanced hormones and emotions. It will leave me out of sorts, and possibly weak, and sick for the first six weeks.”

Nate sees the conundrum.

“Huh. That’s going to be fun.”

“This could be a very chill ride.” Wanda doesn’t believe her own words.

“Could have no side effects.” Nate always prefers to have hope.

“I’m supposed to start treatment yesterday.” Wanda is still holding both and making no move to take either.

“There is no pressure. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I won’t be the same anymore. A part of me will die. No longer exist. Writing them out of the novel.”

“You’re taking the first step into coming whom you always knew you were. No one is dying, you exist. That’s not changing.”

“Feels like a part of me is dying.”

Nathan thinks for a moment.

“Do you want to perform a service?”

Wanda nods.

They gather everything that has the name “Wade,” or anything relating to it, pictures, bills and the like. They put it into a pile.

“Do you want to bury it?” Nathan knows the answer before he even asks. Wanda throws a flower on the pile.

“No.”

“Do you want to say anything?”

“Goodbye. So long, and thanks for the all the fish tacos.” She lights a match and drops it on the pile.

They stay like that for a moment. Nathan walks away, and comes back with water. He puts out the fire and carefully throws the remains away. Wanda is silent.

After an hour of waiting ten minutes Wanda joins Nate in the bedroom. He’s on the bed looking into the space ahead. She goes to the bathroom closes the door. She looks into the mirror, takes off the mask.

She stares at the reflection. She punches the glass, her face. Her hand is cut, but she ignores the mess, and blood. She takes out the treatment Nemesis gave her.

She takes the needle, brings it to the vial, and gets the cocktail into the syringe. She injects into the spot he told her to.  She waits. To see. She looks down. She looks back to the broken mirror. She doesn’t feel any different.

She slips the mask back on, adjusts the wig.

She emerges from the bathroom and joins Nathan on the bed. She reaches for his hand and he squeezes like she had hope he would.

“That could have been a better dinner conversation.” Nate says. He really is bad at being happy.

“Could have been worse.”

“I’m not good at happy. It’s confusing.” He can do miserable, sad, and serious no problem.

“We can’t both be the sad tragical clown, Nate. One of us has to be happy. The only way to survive.”

“You can be the happy one.”

“No. I’m going through all the things. It’s up to you, honeycomb.”

Wanda moves over, wraps her arms around his and rests against him. Despite herself, in this moment she is happy.

“Do I have to be?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I accept.” He sighs.

“Give us a smile.”

He does.


End file.
